Sexual Tension
by BattyCore
Summary: A collection of Staig! At first they hate each other so much that they can't even be in the same room without trying to kill each other. And then... -A collaborative effort between zombiesanscafe/stan and myself/craig
1. Notice

Hello there dear reader~

This is going to be set up a bit differently than all of my other fanfiction because it is, in fact, an RP. Normally I wouldn't post something like this, but the Staig… _the fucking Staig_ you guys. It's just so good that I couldn't resist uploading it here.

Just so you know, I was totally against Staig at the beginning of the first chapter, but by the end I was completely in love with it. My Stan is just… I love her, lol, we pretty much eat, sleep, and breath RP at this point. No joke, we get up in the morning and open our computers and we don't stop until we pass out at night, sooo… expect near daily updates. ;D

The only thing I can really say about this is I'm sorry if there's any huge spelling/grammar mistakes. I go through and beta each log once, but after that it gets posted. I'm going to make a project out of going back through what we already have so far and fixing anything major, so I will put out some kind of notification when that's done~

Also, if there's any points of interest missing from the plot, that's because something happened with another character, and in this fanfic I will only be posting logs with Stan. For the rest of our interactions with other characters, you can find our RP group's home page here: hfwtrp dot tumblr dot com (Though there really shouldn't be too much missing that isn't explained)

Other important links are:

Craig/me: humbletucker dot tumblr dot com

Stan: stanisverycool dot tumblr dot com

And also, if you're interested, our AU is based on the lovely hfwt dot tumblr dot com

Ummm, I guess some TWs:

Excessive bitchyness, lots of swearing, sex, some s/m shit, sweetness overdose, alcohol abuse, andd… stuff, lol.

Also, this is comprised of AIM style RP, Para style RP, and texting style RP. A pleasant mix of all three~

Anyway, I'm done talking now, so enjoy our super special awesome RP~ :D


	2. 05 04 2012

05.04.2012 (4pm) - 05.07.2012 (5am)

* * *

_So Mr. Garrison was pretty sure he had solved the issues with Stan Marsh and Kenny McCormick, but for some reason, he still heard a lot of bitching in his class about Craig from Marsh. Well, Garrison really found it was a pain in the ass to talk over Marsh. There had to be an easier way to solve his problems._

_When Linda, the secretary who locked up rooms after hours, passed him in the hall on her way to lock up the gym for the weekend, he walked after her and said, "Wait, Linda, I'll do it. You go home and spend more time with those lovely children." He grabbed the keys and then frolicked off towards the gym, and went inside. _

_If he had looked up on the computer system right, Craig had gym today. And Stan had weightlifting. So he waited for awhile until most of the people had cleared out. They'd certainly find he had taken their phones during the practice fire drill earlier in the day...and probably blame one another. He was hoping, anyways. _

_"Have a good day, Dickens." He waved half-assedly at a student walking out, who gave him a strange look. Yeah, you look funnier with your big forehead, kid - he thought._

After class, Stan had gone into the locker rooms and taken a quick shower. He really didn't care for weightlifting, but it was better than an art class. With a towel on his lower half, he walked over to his locker and started looking through it. That was weird. He could have sworn he brought his phone with him...wait, didn't they have that fire drill during fourth hour? Somehow his mind automatically went to Craig taking his phone, which he didn't want to say. Maybe he was just jumping to conclusions.

He padded around his locker for a few minutes, hearing the other boys leave the locker room. Goddamnit, he was going to be the last one out - and this creepy locker room was dark and dank, he didn't want to be in here alone. With one heated movement, he spotted Craig behind him at his own locker.

"Did you take my phone?"

**Craig shuffles through his locker, looking for his cell phone. He swears he had it all day, but then again, no one had texted him in a while, so he wouldn't know the difference if it was in his hoodie pocket or not. The only explanation he can think of is if it fell out when he'd changed for Gym earlier that day. **

**He hates being in this locker room, especially with all those stupid, mindless jock types just getting out of whatever-the-hell sport they were doing. He's just about to give up, ready to slam his locker shut with frustration, when he hears a question behind him. He turns to see Stan Marsh standing there, looking a mite pissed off. **

**"Why the fuck would I take your phone?" he asks. Really, the ego that kid must have... Apparently Craig just can't stop thinking about him or something and he gives the time of day to steal Stan's stupid phone.**

More kids were leaving, and by now, Stan was like the only other one in the room with Craig. At this point, he didn't give a shit if the phone was gone or not. Turning away with his clothes, he walked off towards the stalls to get dressed - no, he refused to dress in front of Craig.

_Garrison lifted the heavy door a bit to look inside - just as he suspected. He spotted through the slit in the door the two boys, so he decided to shut it again and then he locked it. _

_"Well if the fatboy got all those kids together, it must be a good way to hash things out. Worst thing that could happen is they kill each other, anyways." He pocketed the keys and walked off._

**Craig rolls his eyes at the fact that Stan just up and walked away without even responding. Whatever, fuck him anyways. He turns back to his locker, giving it one more once-over before deciding that his phone is definitely not in it. He slams it shut, more frustrated than he was earlier, and storm toward the door to the locker room. He tries to push it open, but it won't budge. He's about to snap with everything fucking going wrong, and tried again. Nope. This door is definitely fucking **_**locked**_**. He makes a loud, incoherent, angry noise as he kicks the door, hard, with his foot. Fucking fuck everything.**

Stan heard some sort of deformed animal noise echoing into the bathroom, but he really didn't care. He slipped off the towel and threw it on the counter, and then put on his pants and shirt. He really didn't feel like wearing underwear, and besides - he didn't have any clean ones. With a one hand-ruffle through his hair, he looked around to make sure he didn't leave his phone in the bathroom before he walked out and saw Craig at the door. What the hell? Was he trying to open it with his mind, or did he just forget how to use his hands?

"Just open the goddamn door," Stan said as he glared at Craig, and walked over to pushed past Craig. He tried the door himself - almost falling into it when he realized it wouldn't budge. Silent for a minute as he looked down at the door, tried shoving it with one hand, and then two, he decided to knock.

"Hello?" He called to anyone who might be on the other side. "...There's people in here, can you open the door again?"

**Craig rolls his eyes, not much caring for Stan's goddamned naivety. "It's fucking locked for the night, dumbass. No one's fucking here to hear your pathetic screams," he wanders a few feet to the side and kicks again at a locker, needing to take out his anger on something that can't feel pain. Then it hits him. **_**No one's here to let them out**_**. And it's fucking **_**Friday**_**.**

**He lets out another near scream of "God fucking damn it!" as he whirls and kicks the same locker again. It opens with a creek, having dented enough to break the lock. "It's fucking Friday night; no one is going to let us out until **_**Monday**_**," he says; actually it's more of a yell.**

"Dude...just calm the fuck down," Stan yelled back at Craig, trying to get a grasp on the situation. The cell phone reception in here was crap, and -...oh. No phone.  
A little flicker of panic coursed through him as he realized he didn't have his phone. Okay, well, they couldn't very well leave students locked in the gym, right? ...then again, he realized Cartman used to lock kids in the locker room all the time, and no one realized they were in there.

"Oh fuck." He said as he walked over to the bathrooms- and then checked the laundry hamper. Empty. In the time they had been in class, the janitor had already been through here. He walked slowly towards the entrance back into the locker room and stared at the line of lockers. "...oh goddamnit."

**"Calm down?" Craig asks, turning to glare at Stan. This is somehow Stan's fault. He doesn't know how, but he's sure of it. This is probably all part of some elaborate scheme because Stan is always talking about Craig fucking him. Well that's never going to happen. **_**Ever**_**. He doesn't even finish whatever he was going to say to Stan. He just groans and storms away. He goes a few rows down and sits on one of the wooden benches. Fuck. What the **_**actual**_** fuck. Stuck in a room with Stan Marsh for **_**three days**_**? Without cell phones. So they couldn't even talk to anyone to keep entertained. And what would they eat? And - oh God this is the worst thing that could have ever happened.**

Staring dumbly at Craig, Stan slowly moved towards the door and tried it again. No, it wasn't caught on anything - definitely locked. "Hello?" He said as he hit the door with his fist, and then pounded on it three times. "Hey! Students in here!" After realizing he was stuck, he turned in defeat towards the benches on the other side, away from Craig. There he sat down and stared off at the door into the bathroom. He usually ate dinner after he came home, so he was already starving...and now there was no access to food. Great. Would his parents notice? Probably - but who would check the school locker rooms? They'd sooner put out a report that they were abducted. He sadly bowed his head and buried his face in his palms as he sat hunched over on the bench.

**Craig is beyond pissed off. **_**Way**_** beyond pissed off. Unhealthily pissed. He leans his head back against the lockers and bangs it against their metal a few times. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck..." he mumbles, trying desperately to think of a way out of this. "Isn't there some kind of emergency exit in here?" he asks, not really to Stan, but then he realizes, again, that Stan is the only other living thing in the room.**

"No. That's the one exit." Stan said gloomily, his response muffled by his hands. He was still trying to think of a way out. Vents? No, he was too big for the little slants of vents in here. God. There was no way out. And he was being forced to talk to Craig, of all people, because he was the only one there. This had to be someone's trick - he was convinced, but who would do this?

"I'm not talking to you."

**"Then stop fucking **_**doing **_**it," Craig spits, not wanting to talk to Stan anymore than Stan wants to talk to him. "Why the fuck do you think I went way over here?" he asks. He sighs and drops his head into his hands. 'This isn't happening,' he tries telling himself. 'This is definitely not happening.' His delusions are quickly disproved, though, when he hears his stomach growl. Fuckkkkk.**

Stan listened to Craig bitch, and then he sighed audibly as he uncovered his face and chose to glare at the floor. At least if he was locked in with, say, another soul he never wanted to be trapped in the same area with - such as Cartman - he would think of ways to exit. Craig just bitched. Even though it seemed futile to think about finding a way out, he was trying to channel Kyle's intelligence just to come up with a miraculous way out.  
"Jesus Christ..." He said out loud. No, nothing. Great. He was alone. God finally fucked him over.

"I hate life."

**Craig sits in silence for some immeasurable about of time. Seriously how the fuck could this ever happen. This is the actual fucking worst. Craig could think of **_**anything**_** he'd rather be doing right now. Strangling kittens, giving himself a million paper cuts, throwing bricks at old people from the tops of buildings, ingesting poisons, the list could go on forever. But most of all, he was planning on surprising Kenny after school today with a giant bucket of KFC chicken and a stack of horror movies. But now that's fucked, and he gets to spend his surprise date night with **_**Stan fucking goddamned ass-ramming uncle-fucking Marsh**_**.**

**He stands and begins to walk around, trying to pass the time by occupying his legs. Maybe he can find something to entertain himself if he starts breaking into lockers...**

Stan heard Craig start moving around, and he looked over at the other as he walked past. "Oh my god..." He said as he watched Craig, wondering what he was doing. Was he going to start pacing? Because that was like the top of annoying, and Stan couldn't be miserable with someone pacing around - that just pissed him off. He sent Craig a glare, and then got up and walked around to sit where Craig wasn't visible from his line of sight.

Really, he'd rather be at home right now, thinking about other things - like Kyle, and Kenny, and Wendy. Just...somewhere else. Somewhere else without Craig. Somehow, the ask he had gotten a few days ago about a burning apocalyptic scene seemed favorable to spending a...

"Oh fuck. I have to spend the night in here." He looked up at the flickering fluorescent lighting.

"Jesus Christ..."

**Craig continues to walk around, ignoring the fact that Stan got up and moved away. Well good fucking riddance anyways. He shuffles his feet, not knowing what to do with himself. He hears Stan's voice echo through the empty room, and groans again. "Fuck is right; we'll be here for **_**two nights**_**," he clarifies, pissing himself off again. Maybe he could just sleep for most of the time. True, a cement floor and wooden benches aren't comfortable, but he can sure as fuck try. **

**Or, considering the object of his complete hatred is in the same room with him, he could take out his frustration by pissing him off. Stan's pain is Craig's pleasure, after all. He walks around to wherever-the-fuck Stan went and shoots him a glare, not saying anything, just staring him down.**

He let out a groan of his own as he realized that there was more than one painful night ahead. "It's three nights...Friday night, Saturday night, Sunday night." Then Craig walked over and stared him down, which unnerved him. At first he didn't comment, but when Craig continued to harass him through unwanted staring, Stan narrowed his eyes and said pointedly, "Quit it."

With one hand, he reached down into his pant pocket, trying to see if he left his phone there. No, empty. "Goddamnit..." At least he could try to find a power bar, somewhere. Maybe he had one in his locker.

He got up and walked over to his locker to put in the combo, then he looked around. "Clothes...clothes... ..wrapper. Fuck. I'm so goddamn hungry."

**Craig's eyes follow Stan even as the other moves, continuing to glare. "This is your fucking fault. I don't know how, but you fucking pulled it off," he says. He doesn't know what Stan is looking for, but then again he doesn't really care. He walks over and slams the locker shut in his face. "Fucking **_**fix it**_**, he says. He's not sure what he even really means by that, considering there's no possible way for Stan to get them out of there, but fucking Hell, if he doesn't do **_**something**_**, he's about to get his fucking ass beat. He stands over Stan, a terrible glint in his eye and his stance menacing. He know that even if Stan stands, he's got at least an inch on him, so Craig will still seem scarier.**

"Whoa ho ho, you think I planned this?" Stan said after a minute, standing up and looking at Craig. Even though he was shorter, he wasn't intimidated by the jackass. Not that much, at least.

"No. I don't want to be here, and I don't want to spend a weekend without fucking food drinking from the nasty faucets that guys probably use to wash jizz off their hands. Now if you don't fucking mind, I'm looking for power bars. Or something edible. I don't really give a shit at this point." Craig had the potential to move, but Stan reached up and gave Craig a small shove with one hand on his chest, and then went back to repeating his locker code in his head so he could look inside again.

**Craig quirked an irritated brow. Did Stan really just have the fucking audacity to **_**shove**_** him? And then **_**blow him off**_**? Craig glares, picking up his foot and shoving Stan over with his boot. He watches Stan topple over, having already been so close to the ground. He moves quickly, before Stan has a chance to get up, and puts his boot square in the center of Stan's chest. He pressed down with near all his body weight, pinning Stan to the floor. He sneers down at the other boy, unfathomably pissed off by now. "Don't fucking blow me off, you dick," he says between his teeth. His jaw is clenched so hard that it's almost hard to speak. "You're going to find a fucking way out of here; you know this place better than I do." He punctuates by stepping down a little harder, actually leaning into it, and digging the heel of his boot into Stan's ribs.**

"I...don't fucking know..who..locked us in." Stan said, a bit breathless after being knocked on the floor. He didn't think Craig would have it in him to actually trip him, but he should have guessed the lanky boy would have tried something like that.

"There's no fucking way out- get your heel out of my fucking chest. Goddamnit," He put his hands on either side of Craig's leg just above the ankle where his shoes stopped, and then dug his fingernails into the others' skin.

**Craig scoffs and kicks off the other's chest, abruptly walking in the other direction. He's so fucking sick of this. It feels like he's already been in there for hours, but there's no way to tell. There's no windows, his phone is missing, and the clock on the wall stopped working two and a half years ago, and the school was too lazy to fix it. He's going to go crazy locked up in here, he's convinced. By the time he gets out, they'll have to lock him up and put him on medication. And if he doesn't find anything to eat, he's doesn't know what he's going to do. He's already this hungry, he can't even imagine what the hunger will feel like after three fucking days. He starts kicking in lockers again, this time to search them for food. "If I don't find some fucking food soon, I might have to resort to cannibalism..." he mutters, throwing some poor soul's clothing onto the floor.**

Stan stayed on the floor for a moment, closing his eyes and trying not to think about what jockstraps laid on the floor before his back touched it. With a shove off the ground, he looked in his own locker, finding nothing but a swimmers watch that he was pretty sure hadn't been adjusted since freshmen year. It did read the time though, if it was the correct time. He shoved it in his pocket and looked around once more, before grabbing two tubes of chapstick from the bottom and shoving them in his pocket too. Hey, he wasn't against eating chapstick if it was the last thing there.

At hearing Craig's comment, he rolled his eyes and said right back, "You try, I'll strangle you." Then he closed his locker and walked off towards the bathroom. The banging was making him get a headache, and he really could care less about what junk people left in their lockers. He was pretty sure no one stored food in the locker room - they probably did in their normal lockers, though.

"Fucking asshole," he muttered under his breath as he leaned against the wall in the bathroom. Though, inwardly he was slightly worried about Craig's comment. He had been through a lot of crap, and people in South Park weren't exactly easy to predict whether they would or would not eat a person in a dire situation.

**Craig scoffs at Stan's threat and continues to break into lockers. He's sure he'll find **_**something**_** to eat. Something forgotten. For about a half a second, Craig gets excited. He found a **_**phone**_** in one of the lockers. It's old looking, and really beat up, but a **_**phone**_**. He flips it open and instantly his face falls. It's some kind of old Page Plus phone and there's an OUT OF SERVICE message across the screen. Who the actual fuck keeps a useless phone? He stands and chucks it at a wall, taking great pleasure as he watches it shatter into a dozen little plastic bits. Fucking asshole kid with their useless phone... they won't miss it, he's sure. **

**He lets his mind wander a bit, just kind of thinking in general of anything that might be useful. Now that he thinks about it, why would Stan have said anything about the cannibal comment at all? Does he really need to threaten Craig for such an empty comment? Like hell Craig would ever put any part of Stan in his fucking mouth; living or dead. But it makes Craig wonder... Is Stan afraid of cannibals or something? Could that actually be something he's worried about? Craig feels a sadistic grin spread across his face, but he doesn't say anything. No, no, no, no, he'll save this little nugget of information for later on, when they're actually in danger of starving to death. He begins pilfering through lockers again.**

After a moment of leaning on the wall, he looked up at the fluorescent lighting. The flickering was going to drive him nuts, but... Then he looked down at the floor, and realized there was a pen lying there. ...hey, that used to be entertaining - drawing random doodles on stuff. And the school deserved it, considering they locked them in. He picked it up and then walked into one of the stalls and shut the door. At least in here he could tell if Craig tried getting in.

Looking at the toilet to make sure it was clean, he sat down on the top of the back of the toilet with his shoes on the rim. Then he started drawing circles on the wall of the stall. Good, the pen still worked.

After a few minutes, he had drawn a little stick figure smoking. "Awwww, fuck. There's no cigarettes here..." He cursed under his breath, remembering how he put them out in his truck at the beginning of school. He didn't even have his jacket - that was in his other locker. Goddamnit.

"This fucking sucks..." He muttered, knowing he would go not only through caffeine withdrawal and nicotine withdrawal, but no food was being thrown in. God. This sucked. But then again, he wasn't about to cry in front of Craig Tucker, so he was going to just stay in the stall and hide for another few hours.

**Craig gets sick of coming up empty with the lockers. He's kicked in at least seven of them by now, and he's not getting anything out of it. God fucking damn, he could use a smoke. He brightens up just a bit at the realization that he actually has cigarettes in his jacket pocket. He pats his pocket to make sure, and, sure enough! There's his smokes! If nothing else goes right, he doesn't even care if he starves to death anymore, because he has cigarettes. He pulls out the small carton of Newports (because he's poor) and looks inside. There's only about 7 sticks in there, and he sighs, knowing that won't last him long, especially with how fucking stressed out he is. He decides to not worry about it right now, because fuck, he can worry about that later, when they're gone.**

**He pulls out one of the delicious white cancer sticks and brings it to his lips. He lights it, and relishes in the sound of the lighter clicking to life. He takes a long drag from the end of it and exhales slowly, feeling the smoke churn and burn in his lungs. Ha already feels about 46% better than before. Thank fucking GOD for cigarettes.**

Stan smelled smoke after awhile, and then realized Craig must have had some. Well, fuck. That was wonderful. He growled, "Fucker", under his breath and then sat staring at the ceiling. Well, second hand smoke wasn't too bad. And he was pretty exhausted, he could go use a nap or something...maybe if he crawled on top of the lockers? Hot air rose, and the smoke would be really condensed at the top of the room. It was actually the most brilliant thought he had all day, but probably only because he was addicted to nicotine.

He swung open the door, pocketing the pen. Walking into the locker room, he went to his locker and grabbed three shirts and a pull over, and then looked around for a way to climb up onto the locker tops in the middle of the room. After deciding he could probably pull himself up from where his locker was, he did so after throwing his clothes up there. Then he put his pullover down like a pillow, and hugged his shirts to his chest in a fetal position. He really didn't give a shit if Craig commented.

**Craig leans back against one of the lockers, enjoying the shit out of this cigarette. It feels good, and relaxes his brain a bit. The only thing that would make this exact moment any better would be if it was a joint instead of a cigarette and if Kenny were there to share it with him. He likes smoking with Kenny, it always gets interesting. And now that they're together, who knows what could happen once they start feeling their body buzzes. He shakes the thought, focusing instead on the fact that he's in a stone room, trapped with Stan Marsh. The **_**last**_** thing Craig needs is to start thinking too much and get a fucking boner or something. **

**He opens his eyes and sees Stan all curled up on top of a row of lockers. He snickers at how pathetic it looks, but doesn't say anything. No, he's done talking to fucking Stan. At least for now. Once Craig gets bored enough, he'll probably start to torture Stan for fun. He breaks out a tiny smirk thinking about it, and takes his last pull from his cigarette before stubbing it out on the wall and letting it fall to the floor.**

Stan heard Craig shift, but he had his eyes focused on the broken clock on the wall. With a bored gaze, he finally pulled his chin up on the pullover, looking at the other end of the lockers.

...and there was a bag of Fritos.

At first, he thought he was hallucinating - even though he wasn't that hungry. He tried not to look shocked at the bag of glorious chips, and instead rolled over onto his back and then stretched, feeling the edge of the bag in his fingers.

Oh god, don't make that much noise. Don't. Just don't.

It was wishful thinking, because the room was stone, and everything echoed. It crunched.

He pulled it back over to himself and shoved it under his pullover, and then laid his head back down.

**Craig looks up at the sound of something crunching. "What the **_**fuck**_** was that?" he asks, quirking a brow in near actual curiosity. It almost looked, with the way Stan was stretching, that the crunching had been his back cracking or something. But that was an **_**extremely**_** obnoxious and probably unhealthy back cracking, if that's what really just happened. He stares up at Stan, giving him an incredulous look. It almost sounded like... a bag of chips or something. **

**Craig quickly decides that he's no longer interested, even if it's food. If it **_**is**_** a bag of chips, Stan just found them on top of the goddamned lockers. They're probably old and stale and covered in dust and other disgusting things that Craig doesn't want to think about being in his food. Really, a locker room is probably the last place he'd choose to be stuck with someone; it's fucking disgusting. And, of course, he's stuck with a disgusting human being, too. He scoffs and gives a dismissive flick of his wrist as he turns to walk away. Maybe if he looks through enough lockers, he can find a Gameboy or something.**

Stan ignored Craig's comment, and curled up and went to sleep. He wouldn't wake up for another nine hours, curled up on top of the lockers like a perched bird.

**Craig picks through a few more lockers, coming up completely empty. Fed up with this whole fucking day and this whole fucking situation, he reaches back into his pocket for another smoke. He burns through the cigarette all too quickly, and sighs in defeat. He might as well get some sleep, too, considering there's nothing to do in here anyways. He crawls onto one of the benches, away from Stan's vicinity entirely, and lays on his back. It takes him forever, but he eventually drifts to sleep.**

After a less-than-perfect nine hours of sleep, Stan rolled over and then felt his arm over..nothing. At first he woke up with a start, and pushed himself away from the edge he almost fell off - then he looked around for his dog. No...no dog to hug. No morning kisses on the face. No barking. How depressing. He looked over at Craig where he had fallen asleep - and then he looked underneath his bunched up pullover at the chips.

Reading the expiration date - 10/10/2013 - he silently mouthed, 'fuck yeah', and then tore open the bag underneath the pullover as to not make much noise. He slowly ate half of the bag, and then glanced over at Craig sleeping. He personally wanted Craig to starve because he was sure he did this somehow, but then again, he seemed pretty upset too. He slid off the edge of the lockers, and then walked over with the bag of chips in his hand.

With two fingers, he poked Craig's shoulder. "Wake up."

**Craig wakes, eyes opening and staring at the ceiling. He's suddenly hit with the reminder that he's in a locker room and not in his bed. He groans and turns over, facing the lockers next to him, curling a bit. He closes his eyes and continues to lay there for a while, drifting in and out of sleep, barely conscious. His eyes fly open, though, when he feels someone poking into his shoulder and a "Wake up." He doesn't bother turning around, extremely irritated that the first thing he gets when he wakes up is to talk to Stan Marsh. He doesn't really have the energy right now to fight or argue, though, so he simply says, "What do you want." It's more flat than anything; not angry, or even really tired anymore. Just flat.**

"Chips. Yours. Have fun." He dropped the bag of chips right on Craig's chest, with the end curled up in case Craig dropped it from surprise. He turned and walked over to his locker, pulling out his bag of grooming supplies, the one he had brought along and used only when the locker room was empty. Since he had to sleep in this disgusting place, he really didn't give a shit if Craig saw what was inside the bag if by on accidentally walking in the bathroom. Grabbing another shirt, he looked down at his pants - his only pair - and then decided to just go along with that as well.

"I'm going to go take a shower. Don't walk in." The stalls were pretty open, and he really didn't want Craig walking in when he was in the nude.

**Craig doesn't say anything as the chips are dropped in front of him. Is this some kind of peace offering...? He sits up, regardless, and opens up the bag. Where the fuck did Stan get chips from anyways? He reaches in the bag and eats one of the chips. Surprisingly, they aren't stale or something, which is good. He hears Stan say he's going to take a shower and rolls his eyes. "Why would I walk in?" he asks, sarcastic. Really, Stan must have it in his head that Craig wants to jump him or something, because why would he even need to warn Craig about that. "Wait, though." He stands, setting the chips down. "I gotta take a piss, and if you don't want me in there, I'd chill for a second," he says, walking toward the bathrooms. He goes to the urinal and takes his piss, washes his hands, and returns to his bench with the bag of chips. "All yours," he says, leaning back up against the lockers as he sits.**

Stan waited with his clothes and bag in one hand, and then stared off towards the lockers. It was around then when he decided to look at the watch in his pocket - he wasn't sure if it was the right time, but it had seemed around it earlier, and it looked like ten hours had passed. Ten? Was that right? Then it was in the middle of the night. He sighed as he put it back in his pocket.

Once Craig came back out, Stan went into the bathroom and walked over to the counter. He put down the shirt and the bag, and then opened it up. A small container of body wash was there - and then lotion, and a few other items that probably would be considered girly. He grabbed his razor from inside, and a small can of gillette shaving cream for men. He set them out and took off his shirt, and then unbuttoned his pants, glancing back towards the door like Craig would walk in on him any second. Hovering with his hands over his zipper, he didn't hear any movement out in the room. Okay, so Craig wasn't going to run around the corner.

Slipping off his pants and putting them on the counter as well, he grabbed his grooming items and walked over to the shower stall. He set up each container on the ledge, and turned on the water. It took him around twenty five minutes to shave his body - which was already shaved from a day or so ago. Ever since the bet, he hated the feeling of hair underneath his clothes, and he didn't care how many people laughed at his manscaping - he was going to do it anyways.

After he shaved, he lathered on the body wash and then grabbed his Aussie shampoo and rubbed it onto his hair.

**Craig continues to sit on his bench, slowly eating the chips in his lap, savoring each one and hating himself for eating them because they will only make him feel hungrier once they're gone. He glances into the bag and they're nearly gone. He sighs and continues eating them anyways; he's fucking **_**hungry**_**. **

**He inwardly groans, thinking about the chips as an object instead of food. Fuck, Stan had helped him out. Stan gave him food. That means Craig has to **_**thank him**_**. He really, **_**really**_**, doesn't want to; it'll near kill him to do so. But who's the better man here? If Stan just gave Craig food, when he easily could have eaten it all himself, and Craig doesn't even thank him, then who comes out on top? Craig would just look like a giant dick bag. **

**He finishes off the chips and tosses the bag on the ground, not bothering to throw it away properly. The assholes that clean this place can clean it up for locking them in there. He waits for Stan to come back from the bathroom so he can make his graces. God fucking damnit, he doesn't want to though.**

Stan still didn't return when Craig thought he would. At least forty five minutes had passed, and he was still washing out his short hair and he decided to do a second body wash. Having been flat on the floor, he started thinking about the jock straps again and he couldn't help himself - he had to get rid of that nasty feeling by washing repeatedly and rinsing.

After an hour had gone by, he finally turned off the shower. It would be another ten minutes however, because now he was applying lotion to his elbows, knees, and legs - and his neck and arms. Then he took out his face wash, still naked, and applied it and turned on the faucet and splashed his face clean.

**Craig gets progressively more irritated and antsy as time goes on. What the fuck, is Stan a girl or something? What the fuck could he be taking such a long shower for? By the time he finally hears the water shut off, he's gritting his teeth and his foot is bouncing on the tiled floor. 'Goddamn, fucking finally,' he thinks. He's about to get up and go in there, but he realizes Stan probably needs a minute to get dressed. The last thing Craig needs during this trip through Hell is to see Stan naked. **

**He waits at least a food five minutes, deeming that enough time for **_**anyone**_** to get dressed, before he stands and makes his way over to the bathroom. He starts to speak before he's quite reached the door, knowing Stan will hear him anyways. "So hey, uh, I just wanted- Fuck! Agh!" He starts awkwardly, but ends on a hard yell once he sees that Stan is indeed still not dressed. He back pedals quickly and stands on the other side of the wall so that he's unable to even see into the bathroom. "What the fuck! Why are you still not fucking dressed?" he all but shouts. Now he's pissed off, and a little taken off guard. He was **_**not**_** expecting that. "What the **_**actual**_** fuck!" he continues.**

Stan had been in the process of brushing his teeth while naked, and when he heard Craig's voice he spit out the suds and grabbed his clothes off the counter, covering himself.

"What the fuck! Stay out, didn't you say you weren't going to come in here? Fuck, you couldn't resist could you!" He washed off his toothbrush, shoved it back in its case and put it in the bag. Pulling on his pants quickly, like Craig would fly around the corner at any second, he grabbed his shirt and started pulling it over his head.

**"I didn't think you'd be standing in there brushing your damn teeth without any fucking clothes on, asshole! Who the fuck even does that!" he asks, fuming. "I didn't peg you for the fucking prima donna type, but apparently you take longer to get dressed than my fucking mother!" he says. He's pissed off, and a little shaken by this whole thing. Why the fuck was he even going to apologize in the first place? **

**He's still convinced that this whole thing was Stan's plan anyway, and it's his fault they're locked in there. Maybe this was all some kind of fucked up conspiracy to get Stan into Craig's fucking pants. Well that's never going to fucking happen, ever. Even if Stan walks around nude the whole fucking time. Craig hates Stan; there's no changing that. He's too pissed off to even continue standing there, so he says, "I was just going to thank you for the fucking chips, but now I don't think I'm going to." He storms away from his wall and starts to kick in some more lockers. He needs to take this out on something. Anything at all. The fucking lockers were **_**all**_** going down.**

"Jesus Christ," Stan muttered as he pulled the shirt down over his head, and then fastened his pants. He glared at the doorway where Craig had been leaning, and heard the lockers taking a hit. If the school made them pay for this, he was totally sticking the blame on Tucker.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out one of the chapsticks, and then put it on his lips. Once he was sure he was finished, he messed up his own hair because he hated how it laid on his head after showering.

"Fucking drama queen," Stan muttered as he put everything in his bag, leaving the shampoo and body wash out. Well, if Craig wanted to shower, he wasn't going to keep him from it. Staying in the same place for three days with someone who reeked didn't sound too enticing.

He leaned on the counter, wondering if he should even go out in the locker room area. Eventually, Craig would have to pee or something. Then he realized - he really hadn't been drinking. Looking in his bag, he took off the shaving bottle cap and rinsed it out a few times and then filled it up with water and drank it. After doing that around ten times, he walked over to the stall and relieved himself, and then went out to wash his hands.

Had he really been in there that long? His family never commented. Then again, he took his longest showers late at night, when no one complained anyways. And he only did it once every few days. What was the big deal? Grabbing the bag he finally retreated out the door, threw a glare in Craig's direction as he passed him and walked back over to the ledge and hoisted himself up on top of the lockers again.

**Craig rolls his eyes when he hears Stan mutter. Yeah, Craig is the one being a drama queen. **_**Oh, don't look at me, I'm a princess, blah blah fucking blah**_**. Craig kicks in another locker and starts to go through it. He'd stopped going through them, realizing that no one actually kept anything valuable in their lockers, but this time he's just pissed off, so he wants to take someone's shit. Or break it. **

**After shuffling through piles of clothes, he actually finds what he'd been hoping for with one of his other locker-breaking sprees. There's a goddamn Gameboy Color in the bottom of this locker. He reaches in and takes it, looking to see if there's a game installed. There is! Ha! Take that, Stan, Craig gets to play fucking Mario. **

**He stands and moves back to what he's dubbed his own bench and sits on it, gameboy in hand. He turns it on and it makes the signature Nintendo **_**brring**_**. Music to his fucking ears. And there's even just over half the battery power left. That's good for a good couple of hours, at least. He lets out a small, self-satisfied grin as he starts a game, erasing the persons save file. They won't miss it, he's sure.**

Stan heard the_ brrring_, but he really didn't care if Craig found a gameboy or not. What, it'd bring about four hours of entertainment. He checked the watch, noticing it was a little after four in the morning now. Damn. His stomach growled and he rolled over on his side, staring off at the clock again from where he laid nestled up among clothes on the locker tops.

Even though he was pissed Craig had seen him naked, he was kind of admitting defeat with this whole situation. There was no way to get out. He had to deal with Craig for more than 72 hours. And now he was actually more hungry then he was prior to the chips. The taste of chapstick on his lips just made him want to eat his lip.

"Fuck, I'm starving." Stan moaned out loud, throwing both arms out to his sides as he rolled onto his back. Suddenly all those times he was embarrassed of Randy for cooking fabulous dishes seemed irrelevant - it was possibly the coolest thing ever to think of them. And then when he realized he couldn't have the food, well fuck.

"Guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh."

**Craig quickly wraps himself up in the game, already near beating the first lever. Really, Gameboy Color games are wy too easy. The sound of Stan's voice breaks him of his small amount of happiness, tough, and he scowls down at his game. "Fucking bite me, Marsh; quite bitching," he says, annoyed that they're still even here. He's started to accept the fact they they're not going to get out, but that doesn't mean he's any less pissed off about it. And he's going to **_**stay**_** pissed off about it, even after they get out. This is by far the worst possible thing he could be doing with his time. **

**Plus, he's starting to get a bit antsy. He's going through all types of withdrawal right now; hunger, nicotine (considering he's trying to conserve his cigarettes), and even, as much as he won't say so to Stan because that would be all kinds of a bad idea, sex. Since he and Kenny had gotten together, they've been with each other quite a bit, and things always lead to other things, even when Kenny had a broken leg in the hospital. And now he has to go through three whole days without even getting to see his face? Fuck no. Not fucking cool at all.**

"That's a suggestion, but I'm not into cannibalism. Or rough sex. Sorry." Stan replied apathetically, his eyes narrowed as he stared at the concrete ceiling. He was beginning to think about it actually - if he didn't have such damn strong morals and sense of right or wrong, maybe he could join the screwed up ranks of South Parkians who did crazy things in desperate situations. No - he was sure even if he was a cannibal he wanted nothing to do with Craig Tucker, anywhere near him. Including inside of him.

Just thinking of it made him go, "Oh God." He closed his eyes, trying to think of something else, but the hunger was really bothering him. Maybe just sleeping the next three days would be good...

**Craig stomps on a mushroom thing's head and barks a laugh. Or /rough/ sex. He didn't rule out normal sex. Craig /knew/ Stan had some kind of fucked up thing for him, and now he's even more confinced than before that Stan is the one that set this whole thing up. He looks up to Stan with a quirked brow and a smug look and scoffs. "Could have fucking fooled me," he says, turning back to his Gameboy.**

**He lets the thought roll out of his mind. He doesn't want to be thinking about sex with anyone right now; not Kenny, and least of all Stan. That would just... no. Fuck no. But it does give him something to hold over Stan's head in the future.  
He pauses the game, about ready to die from the lack of nicotine in his system. He pulls out his third cigarette and lights it, enjoying the feel of it in his lungs as he inhales the smoke. God yes, he fucking loves cigarettes.**

"You know what someone at school said about you?" Stan asked as if he hadn't heard Craig's comment at all as he stared off towards the ceiling in a hunger induced daze.

"That since you're an arrogant asshole, you want me to suck you off because I look like you."

**Craig rolls his eyes, taking another drag off his cigarette. "Did **_**you**_** know that the only reason you fucking told me that at all is because you want to fucking agree?" he says. It irritates him that Stan brings this up so much. Craig doesn't want Stan, Craig doesn't like Stan, Craig doesn't want anything to do with Stan. So why is Stan so fucking stuck on it?**

"Oh, and then like three nights ago Kenny decided that you, me and him with a few others would have an orgy, and this would happen sometime in the near future."

Stan paused, not really paying attention anymore to the ceiling. Now he was working on Craig's nerves, because he just wanted social interaction - even if it was bickering. He missed Kyle so much.

**Craig stubbs out his cigarette, half finished, and puts it back in his box, saving it for later. "Right, well, that's not going to happen," he says. "Why are you so fucking set on this?" he asks. Now he's thinking that maybe Stan doesn't like **_**him**_**, but maybe he's still after Kenny. Maybe Stan thinks that if he can get Craig to stray away, that Kenny will become available again. He wants some fucking real answers. Now. "Seriously," he says, furrowing his brows and shooting Stan a hard glare**

"Set on what?" Stan asked carelessly, not really assuming that Craig was suggesting he was trying to make him stray. He really, really just wanted to talk, and the silence was really deafening...and if he didn't say something absolutely absurd, Craig wouldn't have responded. His eyes were fixated on the ceiling still, not catching Craig's glare.

**"You know fucking what; why are you so stuck of us fucking? Get it through your goddamned head that it's not going to happen. Ever. But, for whatever reason, every single time you talk to me, you have to bring it up. **_**Why?**_**" he's more than irritated by now, but he's trying not to get angry. If Stan is just fucking with him, then sure, Craig can be pissed, but if Stan if fucking serious then Craig is going to be absolutely **_**livid**_**.**

"Goddamnit, Tucker, I don't want to fuck you. I just find it funny like every single person in this school, including your new boyfriend, wants us to get it on. It's like some sort of...I don't know. Weird fandom forming. I bet they club membership cards and everything, god."

There was an evident sound of sarcasm in his voice, though it was weaker than usual. He wasn't really riled up, and he didn't care enough to make a stronger point.  
"So no. I do not want to fuck you. I don't want you even in the same room as me. But God hates me right now."

**Craig is about to snap back something sarcastic, but then he realizes that Stan is... right. Even fucking Ruby had been harassing them about it a while back. Did everyone really think they were ho for each other? "Well, the fucking point is that neither one of us wants to fuck the other, so there's no fucking point it talking about it, right?" he says, trying to get the topic off of their sexual interests. It's starting to make his skin crawl, in a bad way, to be talking about it for this long.**

"Right." Stan said out loud, wondering why Craig sounded so pissed off about it. Was he sad that they'd never get it on? The thought disgusted Stan.

"It's like almost 5 AM Saturday." He said randomly, wondering if Craig would quiz him on how he knew it. "I've had a watch. Found it in my locker. God why am I stuck in here with you?"

He really, really needed a hug. Some sort of human comfort. Not someone ogling his bod in the bathroom, then hiding in the corner playing video games. Why Kenny was attracted to a social recluse, he wasn't sure.

**"I don't care what time it is; if I know it'll just make time pass even fucking slower," he says, picking the Gameboy back up. "And the less time I **_**believe**_** I spent in here, the better off my fucking sanity will be," he adds. If he thinks he was stuck in a cement block for an actual 72 hours with Stan, he might just kill himself. If he can fool himself into thinking it was shorter, the better off he'll be. Though, the realization that it's actually 5am makes him kind of sleepy because his body recognizes that this is **_**way**_** too early to be awake. He yawns and stares down at the colored screen in his hands. Suddenly, video games aren't that interesting. He sets it off to the side again and lays back down on the bench, hoping to catch a few more hours sleep.**

He was probably right - ever since Stan checked the time, it had become a reflex like checking the time on his iPhone. It never made time go by faster, he just looked for more things to do to pass the time.

Finally after around twenty minutes had passed, he slipped off the ledge of the lockers and hopped down onto the floor with a bit of gracefulness. Walking over in short strides to where Craig was lying down, he decided to look at him with a gaze for a few minutes to see if he was still awake.

**Craig hears Stan shift off the lockers, but doesn't pay it any mind. Like he gives a fuck what Stan does. He starts to feel uncomfortable, though. Like someone is staring at him. He can feel the eyes on him, and it makes him almost fidget where he's laying. He's near positive that Stan is standing there, staring at him. Especially considering he didn't hear Stan walk away. He takes the chance of potentially looking stupid talking to no one, and says, "What the fuck are you looking at." He's half asleep, so his voice is weighted, a little quieter than normal.**

"Go to sleep," Stan said after a minute, wondering why Craig was responding with his eyes shut. Did he have some sort of third-eye that he was mysteriously looking at him through? He couldn't take back his last comment though, and he realized a bit too late it sounded...creepy.

"I mean, I'm not doing anything."

**Craig mumbles some kind of incoherent curse under his breath, a little too tired to actually be irritated that Stan is just **_**standing there**_**. "Can you go do nothing somewhere else then? I can feel you looking at me," he says, feeling the eyes still on him.**

Stan stared at Craig, frowning. "Okay, you're the only other person in this room for the next two days. And I have way more physical interaction with people during the day to keep me from completely fucking losing it. So I guess what I'm trying to say is..."  
He stared at Craig, and then forced out what felt like painful words to utter.

"Can I hug you?"

**Craig collapses into himself a bit with a loud 'pfft!' noise. He rolls onto his back and opens his eyes, looking up at Stan with the smuggest smirk he thinks he's ever worn. "Can you **_**hug**_** me?" he repeats, not really believing that Stan just asked that. He mulls it over in his head for a second. Okay what are the pros and cons to this? He'd pretty much have leverage over Stan for the rest of Stan's life if he does is. On the other hand, he has to actually **_**touch**_** Stan. Deciding that he doesn't actually care, because really, since when does Craig care about physical boundaries, he sits up. He gives Stan another look with his brow quirked high on his forehead and the smirk never leaving his face. **

**He leaves the question hang in the air, staring Stan down. If Stan is actually brave enough to repeat himself, Craig might just do it, just to hear him say it again. It's probably the most humiliating thing he's ever heard come out of Stan's mouth. On the other hand, if Stan denies asking or walks away, Craig won't care and he'll just lay back down to go to sleep.**

**Which is it?**

Stan looked away, irritated when Craig pulled himself up just to repeat Stan's request. How humiliating. And it wasn't like he really needed it - he was just feeling caged up, and usually he got hugs when he felt... ...was it anxiety, or fear?

No, he wasn't desperate enough yet. "No, never mind. You'd be like hugging a corpse anyways." Stan walked off towards the bathrooms to go grab another cap-full of water.

**Craig rolls his eyes, letting himself flop back down onto the bench. He knew Stan wouldn't have the fucking balls to say it again. "Actually, I'm pretty fucking warm," he comments to the 'like a corpse' thing. He rolls back onto his side and closes his eyes again. Now he doesn't know if he'll be able to sleep, though. Stan mentioning his desire for human interaction reminds Craig that he didn't get to have his KFC horror movie night with Kenny. Right now, he could be in Kenny's bedroom, in Kenny's bed, holding onto Kenny. But instead, he's in a locker room with **_**Stan**_**, on a bench across the room from **_**Stan**_**, and avoiding **_**Stan**_**. Not exactly a welcome substitute.**

Stan stood in the bathroom looking at the mirror, wondering what everyone else was doing. Were his parents up all night wondering where he went? Did Kyle know? Did Wendy care? What about Kenny? Did he notice Craig was gone, Stan was gone, or both?

Maybe he was desperate enough for interaction. After all, if he was locked up in a room, he was pretty sure he would go crazy alone. Now he was pretty much alone because of who he was trapped with. It was really annoying. Almost as annoying as the hunger in his stomach, but he was learning how to avoid that, even though now he was pretty sure he was going to throw up - probably water - just because he was feeling nauseated about the whole situation. He missed everyone...and he didn't have his dog...He was so depressed. He needed alcohol. Some sort of comfort.

He walked back out after getting a few drinks of water, and then he walked out and went right up to Craig and hugged him as he laid down on the bench.

**Craig hears Stan walking again, but doesn't give it any thought until he suddenly feels arms around him. And - the **_**fuck**_** - a **_**body**_** behind his? His eyes fly open and he's almost afraid to move. Okay, a fucking hug is one thing, but this - **_**this**_** is something else entirely. "What the living **_**fuck**_** do you think you're doing?" he asks. He wants to turn around so he can glare or hit or **_**something**_**, but with the is Stan is holding him, that would put them nose to nose. 'The way Stan is holding him?' The thought makes him nearly nauseous on several levels. First: It's fucking Stan Marsh, the person Craig probably hates the most in the entire world. Second: From **_**behind**_**? No no no no no no, Craig isn't a spooned, he's a spooner. Not that he's really gives a fuck because he doesn't want to be spooning at **_**all**_** right now. Not with Stan fucking Marsh, anyways. He's having a silent panic attack, and he's **_**highly**_** resisting the desire to kill.**

Stan tightened his grip around Craig, and then slowly let go and patted Craig on the shoulder. "Thanks bro." He said in a slightly sarcastic, yet amazingly thankful voice, and walked off to the other side of the room to climb back up on the lockers. He knew if Craig tried to even replicate a hug story that was anywhere near truthful, he'd get laughed out of the school. And Stan got his hug. So he was momentarily satisfied. Well, not really - Craig was a far cry from an awesome hug from Kyle or Wendy, and he definitely didn't give him the creature comfort that Stan's dog did when he jumped up to greet him at the door with slobbery doggy hugs.

Curling up in a ball with his pullover under his head, he stared at the clock and shut his eyes after awhile. He missed his window, too. It was amazing that even as hungry as he was, he was missing a lot more than just what he thought he would - the cravings for a smoke, a bottle of alcohol - no, he wanted human interaction, even though he was completely pessimistic to the world half of the time. Who knew how much he depended on it.

**Craig is damn near shaking with the rage that's building up inside him. What **_**right **_**did Stan to do something like that? Asking for a hug is one thing, but spontaneous unwanted spooning is something completely different. When Stan walks away, Craig doesn't move. His muscles are all so tense that he's not sure he'll ever relax again. "Give me one good fucking reason not to beat your ass for that. **_**One good fucking reason**_**," he says, glaring so hard at the lockers in front of his face that he's surprised they aren't melting.**

"If you can climb up here, sure. Go ahead." Stan replied curtly, and then added, "What, are you going to melt from a hug?"

He took Craig's threat as an idle one, like he had taken the whole cannibalism thing as an idle threat. Craig was too lazy to do a damn thing. He spent the entire first half day trying to find a video game so he could sit on his ass 'in style'. Like hell he was going to scale up the side of lockers to try and beat Stan, who was evidently the stronger one of the two with his athleticism.

**Craig sits up and stalks over to the lockers that Stan is currently laying on. He steps up onto the bench and hoists himself up by his arms. Really, did Stan think he couldn't? Craig is even taller than Stan, what the fuck. He doesn't even care; he's so pissed off. The space on top of the lockers isn't exactly wide, so he has to do a bit of awkward maneuvering to pull it off, but he pushes Stan over onto his back and gets a knee in his stomach. He grips the top of Stan's shirt in his fist and yanks him up by it bringing Stan closer to see the raging glint in Craig's eye. He poses a fist, ready to punch his fucking lights out. "No I'm not going to fucking melt, but you do **_**not**_** fucking touch me without my fucking permission. **_**Ever**_**."**

Actually, from the moment Stan heard Craig get up, he was expecting him to do something. The other approached, and Stan could care less. What was he going to do, make more threats? Beat him up? They were trapped in the room regardless. It would be pointless.

When Craig got on top of him after shoving him on his back, and then put his knee into his stomach, Stan grimaced visibly as he was then pulled up by the other by the collar of his shirt.

At this point, Stan was wondering what would irritate the crap out of Craig. Why go through all the effort to make a point anyways? What was Craig getting at? Maybe Christophe was right, he really was trying to get in Stan's pants. Stan really didn't give a shit, he just hated the other half-ass mounting him, like he could beat the crap out of him any time he liked in any sexual manner he pleased. What would properly scare the other off him?

That was when Stan's blue eyes focused on Craig's menacing gaze, and then he leaned in and pecked him on the lips. He really did hope the smell of his chapstick lingered on the other just to piss him off more.

**Craig reels his head back, his face scrunching up with disgust. Did Stan fucking Marsh actually just **_**kiss**_** him? That's about all Craig can fucking take. He pulls his fist back a bit and pushes it forward, colliding hard with Stan's cheek bone. It actually surprises Craig how hard he really hit him, and he shakes his hand out to get rid of the shock before balling it back up for another blow. He doesn't even say anything at this point. There was a line, and Stan fucking crossed it a mile back. Craig is just about ready to murder him.**

After the first blow to his face, Stan let out a disgruntled sound as pain radiated from his face. Goddamnit - that was going to show - he didn't have much time to think before Craig balled up his fist again to hit Stan for a second time.

He put one hand up and caught Craig's hand before he could land a second punch, and then put his other on the hand Craig had positioned way too close to his throat.

"It was a fucking joke. Get your fucking hands and knee off me or I'm going to throw you off these fucking lockers, Tucker." He really didn't want to - the idea of killing Craig by throwing him off the lockers, and possibly hitting his head and knocking himself out, was not cool with Stan. He didn't want to kill or have to take care of the other.

"Get. The Fuck. Off. Of me."

**Craig becomes a bit frustrated at the restriction of his hands. He doesn't try to pull them away though, because he tries to convince himself that killing is **_**not**_** an option. People go to jail for that. "You don't fucking kiss somebody as a fucking joke," he says, continuing to glare at Stan. He doesn't move away, but at the same time, he doesn't make any movements to further harm Stan. He tries to calm his breathing. With all the adrenaline pumping through his veins, it had started to become a problem to breathe properly. It doesn't help that all he can breathe in is the smell of Stan's over-product-ed body. It's stifling the air.**

"Get off. Now." Stan repeated himself, trying to keep calm. He was really craving nicotine right about now, and being deprived was not making his life any easier when Craig was flinging himself dramatically at him. Granted, he was the first to cast the first stone - ..or in this case, the first hug - but he had put up with shit with Craig, like him walking in on his totally private time. Who did that? He was just asking for it.

"Why the fuck are you so angry. Kissing might not be a joke but goddamnit, I want you to keep your eyes and fucking hands and other limbs off of me, you bastard. So if I make you fucking uncomfortable then boo fucking hoo, deal with it."

**Craig doesn't bother to point out that Stan is the one still holding onto his hands and just rips them away on his own. He backs off and sits on the edge of the lockers, his legs hanging off the side. He **_**really**_** still wants to beat Stan's ass, but he figures the nice bruise Stan'll be getting on his face is good enough for now. "You're the fucking one staring at me while I'm sleeping and asking to hug me and then spooning me against my will and then kissing me; but hey, what do I know. I'm the one that needs to fucking back off, apparently," he says. **

**He really needs to fucking relax. Now would be a great time to finish that half a cigarette from earlier. He picks it out of the carton in his pocket and lights it up. He takes an unnecessarily long, satisfying drag off it and lets the toxins calm his system. He closes his eyes and sighs. There's no fucking getting out of here. It feels like he's going to be stuck here for the rest of his life instead of just the next two days.**

"You fucking started it, you bastard. Throwing me on the jockstrap floor." He spat at the other spitefully, and then moved to slip off the edge of the lockers. With that, he turned the corner to go in the bathroom and walked up to the mirror. It was red - not quite bruised yet, but he knew it would be bad tomorrow. Grabbing a few paper towels, he folded them in a half and then put them under the water while it was turned to cold. After he did this, he put it to his face and then walked over to the locked door to the janitors closet near the counter and sunk down to the floor with his back turned towards the door.

He sat that way for awhile, before he felt his eyes tearing up. Oh god. There were few things that actually made him cry - one of them was Wendy, another was losing a friend, and the last was not being able to do anything at all about the situation he was in. Not even when he tried. He attempted moving his free hand to wipe his eyes.

"I fucking hate this."

**Craig scoffed as Stan hopped off and walked away. "Me kicking you to the ground leads to you sexually advancing on me. Got it; I won't do that anymore," he says, even though Stan's already walked away. He knows Stan will hear it regardless with how echo-y the walls are. He doesn't hear Stan respond, so he lets it go, not really caring to hear a response anyways. He finishes the rest of his cigarette in peace. **

**Somehow, even though he hasn't had anything to drink, he has to take another piss. He hops down from the lockers and starts his way to the bathroom. He vaguely wonders where Stan could have possibly gone off to and hopes that he's not naked in the bathroom again. He might seriously kill Stan if he walked in on that again. **

**Craig stops when he enters the bathroom. Aw, fuck. He looks over and there's Stan, sitting on the ground, with the beginnings of what looks to be tears ready to fall. "Um," he says awkwardly, shifting in his spot. What the fuck is he supposed to do now? He never expected Stan to cry over something like getting punched in the face.**

Stan barely looked up at Craig as he moved to put his hand over his eyes, so Craig couldn't really see what he was doing. It was kind of evident though now that he had gotten a glimpse of his face.

"It wasn't you, you arrogant dick. Just piss and leave me alone."

He seriously was sitting there thinking about removing one of the toilets in order to get to the sewers, but he was pretty sure they needed tools for that. Then again, the hole for a toilet was extremely small - he had watched someone replace their toilet once.

"Fucking sadist, coming in here to watch..." He was beginning to think Craig was a sick freak, and it made his stomach feel ten times worse. It wasn't really nausea, it was more like he was so hungry he was about to lose anything else he put down there.

**Craig furrows his brows, looking down at Stan, not really sure what to do. "All I said was 'um,' asshole. Why would I care if I made you cry? I came in here to take a fucking piss," he says. He still feels a bit awkward and actually the tiniest bit bad, but if Stan is just going to be a dick about it, then he won't stick around to keep him company. He turns toward one of the urinals and starts to take his piss.**

When Craig started pissing in the same vicinity as Stan, he got up on his feet and sulked off out of the room. He really didn't want to be anywhere near Craig, and especially not eye level with...yeah. Walking around the corner he went over to his spot on the lockers, pulled himself up and buried his face in his pile of clothes while lying on his stomach.

**Craig finishes taking his piss and proceeds to wash his hands again. He's so hungry again that he vaguely wonders if he can eat the paper towels. He wanders back to his spot on his bench and flops down onto it. He groans and falls onto his side. He's so. fucking. worn. out. Not even tired anymore. Just plain worn out. He's sick of looking at these walls. He's sick of not eating. He's sick of not seeing anyone other than Stan. He's sick of laying on this hard bench. He's starting to wonder if maybe he's just sick. If only he had his cell phone... Even if he couldn't have any service, he wouldn't care, he could just sit there and play solitair. He thinks about picking the Gameboy back up but doesn't feel like putting in the effort. The only thing he really has any energy left to do is to talk. **

**"So hey," he starts, picking his voice up with a bit of animation. He doesn't exactly sound excited, but not even close to as dead as he feels. "You got any more magic out-of-nowhere food? Because I'm fucking starving. And I wasn't kidding; if I get hungry enough I'm going to start hacking off your limbs and fucking eating you. Just saying," he says. He's facing away from the lockers towards Stan's side of the room, but doesn't look up at Stan.**

Stan heard Craig's comment, but didn't really care enough to respond right away. The only way things could get worse is if Craig actually did go through with that threat, and Stan really at this point wanted to fight but really didn't want to be put away for murder at 17. He finally turned his head so his words wouldn't be muffled, and responded very clearly with scathing sarcasm layered onto his words;

"No. And even if I did, I wouldn't give any food to you ever again." Obviously, he was lying about the chapstick - he knew a story his dad used to tell him about two women surviving being snowbound on chapstick. "And hack off my limbs, huh. With what. Your pointy face? Very creative."

He really couldn't care less if Craig had a knife on him. Really, he didn't think he would, considering he would have probably used it instead of his fist earlier.

**Craig laughs at that; actually laughs. Like he can feel it in his chest and everything. "My pointy face? Come one, Marsh, you can do fucking better than that," he says after most of his chuckling has died down. He does turn his head toward Stan at that, a bit of his actual amusement left in his features. "You think my face is pointy? Sincerely, I'm hurt," he says, putting a hand over his chest where his heart is. He gives a smirk but it's not as vicious as all the previous ones had been. He turns his head back to a normal position and chuckles quietly again. **

**It's almost starting to feel like he's high. This hunger is starting to get to him, and it's actually making him start to feel like he's been smoking. His brain feels a little jittery, and he'd just **_**laughed**_** at something Stan said. Yep, something inside him has finally snapped.**

Stan didn't find it amusing. In fact, he had become so depressed with the situation even his sarcasm was depressed. And that was just downright sad.

"It's fucking two more days. You can deal with no food. People survive up to like two weeks without." A fleeting thought coming from his sense of humanity floated through his mind, wondering if Craig had been drinking any water. He shot it down though, because he really didn't give a shit anymore. Craig was a dick. If he died from dehydration, it was his own fault for being a dick.

"You come near me and I will seriously break you." He wanted to say 'break his neck', but he really didn't want to get descriptive. In case there were cameras in here somewhere.

He rolled on his side and stared away from where Craig was laying - he didn't want Craig looking at him.

**"Right! Well," Craig says, hoping up off the bench he's laying on. He's tired of laying around, and he wants to **_**do**_** something. He doesn't know what though. He's starting to feel awkwardly hyper; like he's randomly getting a bunch of energy from nowhere. Maybe it's his survival instincts kicking in after going this long without food. He looks up at Stan, even though Stan can't see him from where he's sitting. "Let's fucking do something," he says. He doesn't really know why he even asks Stan, because really, Stan is being quite the fucking downer, but Craig can't very well get into trouble on his own, right?**

Stan wasn't amused, still. He stared off towards the wall, curled up in a fetal position with his fingers interlocked with one another. In fact, he was just hoping he would fall asleep - but sleeping so long had made him more awake, which he regretted. He should have stayed awake when he wasn't as hungry as he was now.

Great, he thought as Craig suggested they should do something. Somehow Craig's got his second wind. Without a blink of an eye, he moved slowly towards his bag that had his mancare products in it, and opened it. Grabbing coconut cinnamon lotion, he threw it in Craig's direction. Without a bat of an eye or sitting up from his lying down position, he said,

"There's lotion. Go fuck yourself."

**Craig catches the lotion and raises an eyebrow. He looks down at it in his hand. Coconut cinnamon; the fuck? He thinks about it for a second and actually considers sitting down and jacking one off, just to be a complete asshole because Stan told him to do it. He even gave Craig lotion; does he **_**want**_** Craig to sit there and beat off in front of him? Then he smirks, and idea forming in his head. **

**He zips his hoodie a bit to give the sound effect of him pulling down the zipper on his jeans. He pops open the lotion, making sure the cap makes the distinct clicking noise, and squirts a bunch of it into his hand. He rubs his hands together a bit, letting the extra large glops fall from his hands and onto the floor. He starts to rubs his hands together more, a straight, quick motion. To up the ante, he even cups his hands to give off a **_**squish**_**ing and a little bit of a **_**slapp**_**ing effect. If that doesn't get Stan to stop being such a little emo, then he doesn't know what will. He can't even begin to imaging what Stan's thinking.**

Initially, Stan was hoping he'd get the idea that he didn't want to bother trying to communicate anymore. He just wanted to waste away for the duration of the last two days, and imagine good thoughts of like, scrolling through Tumblr and seeing new pictures of cute puppies. Or his own dog playing fetch or something. Then he heard the zipper. Really, really? He was going to start doing that in here? It echoed - but at least he could switch rooms. Refusing to turn his head to see what Craig was doing, he laid there curled up, a positive livid look on his face. When he heard the noises, they didn't sound right - but then again, maybe Craig had a crooked penis. Stan didn't know, and didn't care, and didn't want to think about it.

After a minute he said, "Sick fuck."

**Craig bursts out laughing at Stan's comment. He actually fell for that BS? He brings his hands to a stop and looks at them. Well, now they're all covered in lotion that he doesn't really know what to do with. He grins as he thinks up yet another way to piss off the other teen. Stan totally believes that Craig just wanked, so wouldn't it be fucking great if... **

**He moves toward Stan's spot and quietly stands up on the bench. The lockers are a little high, but he still looms the best he can over Stan. He doesn't say anything, and has to heavily resist starting to laugh again, as he reaches his hand over toward Stan's head. He wipes the lotion off his hand onto Stan's cheek in one, long, slick wipe. He backs off, not wanting to get hit for that, and walks off toward the bathroom like he hasn't done anything wrong. He needs a paper towel to wipe the rest of that lotion off onto, after all.**

Stan had almost drifted off, even though Craig was being obnoxious as hell. Or maybe he was hoping still. Either way, he wasn't expecting Craig to lurk behind him like some troll and wipe the remains of the lotion on his left cheek. He didn't know it wasn't jizz lotion, no. That unknowing led to his heart stopping, and then one hand slowly reached up and felt the lotion on his cheek.

"...oh. My. God." He said slowly, and then sat up suddenly and yelled, "S-Sick! Oh my god, what the fuck!" He jumped off the side of the lockers, almost landing awkwardly on his ankle - fortunately he saved himself by putting his arm out to lean on the locker. Then he raced into the bathroom, and shoved Craig out of the way as he took off his shirt and pants, and walked over to the shower stall naked. All the while he was talking.

"Get the fuck out of here - just go fuck off Tucker - fuck you! Goddamnit!"

**Craig laughs again as he wipes the remaining lotion from his hands. He doesn't even care that Stan shoved him, because this is downright funny as fuck. Craig is a bit alarmed when Stan starts stripping, wondering if maybe he took that joke little too far, but he relaxes when Stan practically throws himself in the shower. Craig allows himself another laugh because, really, he just pulled the greatest prank he thinks he's ever pulled on Stan Marsh and it was **_**damn**_** funny. When he's done laughing, he calls to Stan over the noise of the water, "It was just a joke; fuck, you don't gotta freak out!" **

**In all reality, though, if Stan had done that to him he probably would have broken Stan's arm, literally. So he supposes jumping in the shower isn't the biggest over-reaction ever. "Seriously dude, never even got my dick out," he adds, just to clarify. He doesn't think Stan will believe him, but he doesn't care either way. Let Stan believe there's jizz on his face; what does Craig care? He walks back to his bench and sighs as he sits down on it. He hasn't laughed this much in ages, he muses absently.**

Stan stayed in the shower for a good forty five minutes. After he was sure he washed his face at least twenty times with body wash, he walked over to the mirror and looked at himself. Yeah, he was really red - no bruising yet...but his face hurt like hell. Goddamnit, why did he have to be stuck with such a jackass in this situation. He looked over at his pants on the floor, and realized the floors were probably just as dirty. Goddamnit.

Cursing as he grabbed the towel he had abandoned there hours ago off the counter, he wrapped it around his waistline and walked back out to his locker. He gave Craig a death glare as he slinked off to his locker, opening it and then looking through the many shirts. Goddamnit, he was pretty sure he'd have to put on those pants. It wouldn't bother him to wear dirty clothes, except for all the stories he had heard the other football players tell about jacking it off and being caught by so and so, and how big the mess was, and whatever.

"Fucking...fuck." He cursed as he grabbed what looked and smelled like a clean shirt, and pulled it on. There was no way he would be able to climb up to his spot on the lockers with a towel around his waist, though.

**Craig is laying back down by this point, back to being tired again. He's not tired enough to not notice Stan's glare though, and he just grins crookedly. "Have a nice shower, Marsh?" he asks, just to be an asshole. He almost asks if Stan jacked it in there, because, you know, Stan can't handle the thought of Craig's come being all over his face, but he doesn't. He figures he's given Stan enough shit for now. **_**For now**_**. Stan still deserves more shit. Stan fucking **_**kissed**_** him. That's not fucking okay. Even if Craig didn't hate Stan, Craig is still in a relationship, so that makes it double not okay. He will pay dearly for that stupid kiss, for as long as they're stuck in this awful cement room.**

"Yeah. Fucking lovely shower." Stan replied shortly, trying to find a pair of pants. He knew they wouldn't magically appear in the locker after looking a few times, but he had to try at least. Finally he became resigned to the fact he would have to wear the fucking dirty pants. What the hell was Craig's problem all of a sudden? From Stan's point of view, he couldn't figure it out. Sure, yeah, he kissed him to get him the fuck off his ribcage. But that didn't equal spreading jizz lotion all over his face.

"Fuck you, Tucker." He said as he slammed the locker, and then reached up to grab his bag from the top of the locker, but he tried to make sure the towel wasn't going to slip so he held onto it with his other hand. But, he was still a bit too short to make up for it.  
He was going for the mouth wash, actually - he wanted to drink it.

**Craig snickers, watching Stan struggle to get his bag. "Need some help, Shortie?" he asks. He knows he sounds completely condescending, but he doesn't really care. The way Stan is trying so hard to reach what he clearly can't while also trying to hold up his towel - because he apparently can't wear his pants - is just pathetic. He yawns for emphasis, showing how tired he is and what a "great guy" he is for helping Stan out when he's so desperately tired. It doesn't take much to amuse Craig anymore, does it? Damn, he really wishes he has some food.**

"Yeah. Could you get it for me," Stan said plainly, still not hinting why he couldn't just put on the pants and go back to lurking on top of the lockers. He assumed that Craig knew he was an alcoholic, but he didn't know how bad of an alcoholic Stan was sometimes - he knew what had alcohol in it or not. And something definitely was in that bag.

**Craig raises an interested brow at Stan's easy acceptance of Craig's help. "You actually want me to help you?" he asks, actually slightly confused. Craig sits up and gives Stan a look. "Alright, what happened to you. I swear to fucking God if you start losing your head, I won't hesitate to kill you because I'm not about to sit in this room with Crazy Stan Marsh. That's just way too much," he says. He continues to give Stan a suspicious look, not really sure what made him this... awkward. "Look, I'm sorry about the lotion thing, alright? It was a fucking joke, you can relax your tits," he says. He gets up though, not actually trying to start a fight, just genuinely interested in what's going on. He approaches Stan and reaches up for his bag. "What's in here, anyway?" he asks. That one's not genuine at all, though, but it sounds pretty much the same. He doesn't care what's it the bag, but he does care if Stan is going to snap and start crawling around on the ceiling or some shit.**

"Nothing, I just want what's in it." Stan said without explaining himself. He maintained a bored expression on his face as he held onto the towel draped around his waist, thinking about Craig's long speech about how he didn't really jack it in the room with Stan.

"I'm...fine. Just get me the bag so I can go back in the bathroom."

**Craig raises his eyebrow again, looking back down at Stan from the bag. He pauses, not getting it down yet. Something is... suspicious. Craig doesn't like it. "What's in the bag?" he asks again, crossing his arms. If Stan has some kind of... he doesn't know a machine gun or something, fuck, he doesn't want to get it down. He hasn't exactly been super nice to Stan and he doesn't want to be the only victim of Stan's school shooting if Stan's finally snapped. Not that Craig thinks Stan has a gun, but still. He could have some kind of weapon in there.**

Fed up with Craig's wishwashiness, Stan narrowed his eyes as he moved to stand up on the wooden bench, gaining the last few feet he needed to grab the bag. He didn't give a crap if he flashed Craig from above. Hopping down the on the floor, he unzipped the bag and dumped it on the bench and wadded through the various skin, hair and teeth products. When he found the after shave and mouth wash, he took both bottles and walked off with them around the lockers away from Craig.

**"You were that against telling me what you wanted and it was only fucking aftershave and mouth wash?" he asks. Okay, he has to admit. His interest is peaked. What the fuck is going on with Stan; why is he being so weird? The child in Craig sees this as a challenge and somewhat of a treasure hunt for the truth or something. But the teenager in Craig is still worried for his own safety, irrationally thinking that Stan is going to try to build a bomb or something out of these useless products. He follows Stan to the bathroom, curious.**

Once in the bathroom, Stan cranked open the travel size mouth wash and then started chugging it. It was probably a really strange sight, considering he was consuming all of the blue liquid extremely quick, and after he got three fourths of the way down he put it on the counter. Shaking his head quickly, he made a strange face as he tried to get over how bad it tasted and how it burned all the way down.

He walked over to his pants, and shook them out - and then slid them on. That was when he realized Craig had followed him, and he glared at him. "What."

**Craig scrunches up his face at the sight. What the actual fuck does Stan think he's doing? When Stan notices him, Craig asks, "Did you just... **_**drink**_** fucking mouth wash?" he asks. Now he's not sure who's health he's more worried about; his or Stan's. In the back of his mind he's actually more worried about the fact that he's even considering Stan's health at all. What an interesting turn of events.**

**"Are you like... trying to poison yourself or something? Because dude, I'm really not **_**that**_** bad; I'll fucking lay off if you're going to kill yourself or something," he says. His eye catches the bottle of aftershave and his mind flickers to the thought that Stan might try to drink that too. He wants to ask, but he already feels like he's been talking too much. If he asks any more questions, he'll start to feel nauseous that he's even worried to begin with. **

**He tries to reason with himself half-assedly. Well, Stan is Kenny's best friend, right? And if Stan dies, then Kenny will be sad. And then Craig will have a sad Kenny. Yeah. That's why he's worried**

Stan fastened his jeans and then took off the towel, swinging it over one of the stalls to dry. He walked over and grabbed the mouth wash bottle, and then finished it off and tossed it in a corner. Then he took in hand the after shave, and pried it open.

"Well if you want to eat me, I won't give a fuck in about an hour." Stan said, even though the sarcasm was hard to detect. He swallowed some aftershave, and then made a face as he said, "Goddamnit this shit is bad."

He walked off past Craig towards the locker room, remembering there were a few bottles of hand sanitizer in his bag too.

**Craig frowns as Stan swallows the aftershave, his apology apparently having meant nothing. It takes a lot for Craig Tucker to apologize to someone, and he doesn't appreciate it when somebody just blows it off. He follows Stan again, catching him by the wrist before Stan can get back to his locker. "Dude, what the **_**fuck**_** are you doing? I said I was sorry; what the fuck is wrong with you?" he asks. He gives Stan a hard look, trying to figure out why Stan is consuming all of these hazardous products. Then he gets it. "You. You're trying to get **_**drunk**_**," he says, disbelieving. Who the actual fuck goes this far to get hammered? He scowls at Stan, completely disgusted with he fact that he would sink this low. He keeps a firm hand around Stan's wrist though, not letting him get to his locker. He has no idea what's in that locker and he doesn't know what else Stan is going to put in his body. **

**In a couple of hours, Stan is probably going to get sick, and Craig **_**really**_** doesn't want to have to deal with sick Stan, especially if he's going to vomit.**

He wasn't expecting Craig to actually take offense at his cold shoulder, or care. When he did comment, and finally figured out why Stan was chugging mouthwash and aftershave, Stan smiled slightly. "God, someone should give you a fucking pr-"  
That was when Craig grabbed his wrist, the one which had his aftershave in it. He looked at Craig's hand, and then at his face, and then he furrowed his brows darkly as he stared at Craig with an irritated glare. "Get your hand off my hand."

He actually sounded vicious this time, like he was finding his inner fighting voice. But his face had turned a redder hue than what it had been before, ever since Craig grabbed his wrist.

"I'm going to punch you in the face if you don't let go of my hand."

**"Then fucking punch me," he said glaring at Stan. "I've been waiting for an excuse to fight you since we got in here; and if kissing me wasn't one, then punching me definitely is." He stares Stan down, daring him to do it. He thinks about holding Stan down, because Craig is pretty good at restraining people and that would eliminate the possibility of getting hit, but he doesn't want to be in that kind of situation when Stan's buzz kicks in. He has no idea what kind of drunk Stan is, and if Craig is holding him in **_**any**_** fashion, he wouldn't want Stan to get the wrong idea. So instead, he braves the possibility of getting hit, settling for tightening his grip on Stan's wrist. If Stan hits him, it's about to be an all out fist fight, and he's pretty sure Stan is aware of that.**

Stan couldn't take it anymore. This entire time he was trying to avoid fighting, and he didn't want to get in trouble after - but he was sick of it. He was hungry, Craig was a cigarette hog, and the only food he had he had shared it with a peeping tom when he just wanted a peaceful shower. Not to mention Craig was blaming him for physical contact, when he was the first one to throw him down on the floor - even if Stan shoved him the first time - and then Craig laughed at his need for hugs. Goddamnit, everyone needed hugs. He was depressed. He had been depressed for awhile, and he missed Kyle - and Wendy - and Kenny, and now he was stuck with mother fucking Craig Tucker. And not to mention the jizz lotion. What the hell was that? Who the hell did that?

He let go of the aftershave and let it bounce on the floor. With one balled fist, he threw a punch at Craig's jaw line, with an extreme amount of force behind it.

**Craig sees Stan start to move and tries to dodge out of the way, but he knows he's already too late to make it miss entirely and Stan ends up smashing his fist into Craig's head, just behind his ear. Craig hisses, his neck snapping to the side. Goddamn, that hurts like a mother fucker. His vision actually starts to spot for a moment, but he quickly clears his head. He makes a blind grab for Stan's other wrist and somehow miraculously catches it. He holds on tight and brings up his knee, smashing Stan hard in the gut.**

Stan made a loud _omph_ noise when Craig's knee smashed into his stomach, and he stumbled for a moment as he tried to regain his composure. He wriggled one wrist out of Craig's grasp, and then put his hand around Craig's throat and squeezed incredibly hard as he tried to push him up against the door of the stall.

"Fuck you," He breathed heavily as he tried to focus. There was a strange feeling in his stomach, and he was feeling dizzy from the mouthwash and aftershave. He probably wasn't nearly as strong as he should have been, after almost a day of not eating and not exercising.

**Craig feels his back hit something hard and Stan's fingers are wrapped tight around his throat. It's not the proper way to choke somebody, but it definitely restricts his access to oxygen. Craig brings his free hand up and wedges his fingers under Stan's, trying to gain some relief from the suffocation. "F... fuck," he says, his voice raspy. He brings his foot up and kicks Stan hard. He's not sure where his foot lands, but it's enough make him press back harder against the wall for a second with its force.**

Stan narrowly missed being kicked in the groin - his hand went off of Craig's throat though, and he pulled his other hand free the minute Craig was startled by being pushed into the wall. He reached up and grabbed Craig's shirt, and then with all the force he could muster he pulled him up by the shirt and shoved him towards the showers. He heard a rip, but he wasn't sure what he had ripped. Probably the shirt.

Out of breath, he leaned against the stall, trying to stop seeing flashing lights. God, he didn't remember this the last time he drank mouth wash. Maybe it was because he doubled it with starvation.

**Craig hits the floor, and he groans from the pain it causes in his body. He aches everywhere, and everything he feels is only intensified by the fact that he's starving. Everything just sucks. He leans up on his elbows, trying to even see where Stan is through his black-spotted vision. He finally see's Stan and struggles to pick himself up off the floor. He makes it onto his feet, however wobbly they might be, and he can't help but to feel incredibly weak. Fuck, he didn't realize he was in this much trouble. He never realized the full extent of what hunger would do to him. He pushes all of these things from his mind, trying to remain strong as he can. He storms back up to Stan and uses both this hands to grip the front of his shirt. He pulls Stan toward himself, and then slams him back against the stall as hard as he can muster.**

Pain surged through his body as he was slammed against the stall door - it hit the back of his skull like a rock. For a moment, he thought he might lose consciousness, because he heard a loud bell like noise ringing in his ears. But he struggled to stay conscious as he put his arms in between Craig's grip on him - pushing them apart so he could get extremely close to the other. Then he leaned in close, shoving the hoodie off of Craig's head; and then bit into the exposed area between Craig's shirt and neck. His teeth sunk into Craig's skin, and he clamped down so hard that he was pretty sure he might have tasted blood.

**Craig catches his breath as he's bit. That's... not okay. Not okay **_**at all**_**. Craig pushes away from Stan as quickly as he can and stumbles backwards away from him. He puts his hand to his neck and holds it, trying to get his pulse to stop beating so fucking fast. He stares over at Stan, trying to figure out what kind of asshole bites someone during a fight. He rubs his fingers along his neck, feeling the indents Stan's teeth had made. He shivers and glares at Stan. What a dick. "Okay, I'm done now," he says, no longer in the mood for fighting. He stares hard at Stan for a couple more seconds before retreating back to his bench. He doesn't care if he just forfeited; biting Craig is not something most people can do. Especially not **_**Stan**_**. He slumps onto his bench and lays on it; still trying to quiet the blood rushing through his system. Fuck.**

Stan spit on the floor, noticing that it's not bloody - maybe he didn't bite that far. He felt incredibly dirty - and as Craig walked away to the locker room, he realized the fight must have turned Craig on a bit because he was breathing way heavier then he should have been, and he was having adverse reactions to being pushed around. Stumbling towards the sinks, he leaned over the counter and threw up the little contents of his stomach in it. He immediately regretted doing so, because being face to face with foul-smelling, putrid chemical-ridden vomit was not his idea of something he wanted to clean later. With a moan he hunched over the sink with his elbows balanced on the counter. With tears in his eyes, he looked down and realized there was some blood in his vomit - something he hadn't seen before. Shit.

"Craig," he called needily, and then felt around the sink to grab the faucet handle so he could steady himself. "Craig, come back,"

**Craig closes his eyes tight, trying to ignore the fact that Stan was calling him back. What the fuck could he still want? The fight is over, isn't it? At the second call of his name, he groans and stands, remembering all that bullshit Stan had just ingested. He's probably getting sick. Not that Craig should care; especially not now that Stan had started a fight over Craig trying to stop him from drinking the hazardous liquids in the first place. But he makes his way to the bathroom again, regardless, because he wants to make sure that Stan gets sick in a **_**toilet**_** and not a **_**sink**_** because there's no way Craig is cleaning that shit up. When he gets there he groans, seeing that Stan has already yacked in the sink, so there's no preventing that. "What?" he snaps, a little anxious and testy after what just happened.**

Before Craig walked in, Stan threw up in the sink - but at this point, he was sure there was nothing left. This time there was more blood - probably the irritation of the stomach lining from the chemicals not being absorbed by any foods. Shaking slightly, he grabbed a paper towel and wiped his mouth and then said slowly, "I'm...really sorry...I'm cold."  
He stood up, still gripping the counter as he walked towards Craig. "I think I mixed...stuff," He reached the door, but found his dizziness had gotten worse. He reached Craig and fell on him, going temporarily unconscious.

**Any previous irritation Craig had is gone, when he hears the actual desperation in Stan's voice. Fucking damn, this kid is in real trouble. Craig knows how to stop being an insufferable prick when the moment counts, and this is one of those moments. He catches Stan when he falls on him and just kind of holds him there for a second, not really sure what to do. Hell, Craig couldn't even handle it when he used to babysit Ruby and she'd stub a toe or cut her hand or something; how is he supposed to take care of a potentially dying teenager? He thinks for a second. Stan said he was cold right? Well, first thing, he should get Stan somewhere warmer than the floor. He considers how he's going to move Stan and, as much as he hates the idea, he's going to have to carry him. He picks Stan up the best that he can with his weakened muscles and half carry/half drags him into the locker room. **

**He puts Stan on one of the benches and looks at his face for the first time. Fuck, the asshole actually passed out? He groans and leaves him for Stan's locker and opens it up. Damn, Stan has a lot of clothes in there. He picks out a few t-shirts, not really caring if they're clean or not, and just kind of... puts them on Stan. It's not really organized, but it's a sort of makeshift blanket, he supposes. Since he knows Stan is passed out, that gives him some time to think. What flushes out toxins? Water, duh.**

**Craig goes into his locker and fetches out a water bottle. It's empty, of fucking course, so he goes to fill it with cold water. He decides he could probably use some water himself and downs nearly the whole thing in just a few gulps. Okay, that made his stomach queasy. Note to self: sip, don't chug while starving. He fills the bottle back up and brings it back to where Stan is passed out. He sets it on the floor next to the bench and tries to think again. This kind of situation **_**really**_** calls for some kind of food, but Craig doesn't really have the energy to go breaking into anymore lockers.**

**Then he remembers that he stopped looking in them at some point and was only breaking into them because he was angry. He goes and starts to pilfer through un-thieved lockers in hopes of finding some kind of food. He breathes a sigh of relief when he finds a tupperware of cookies in some kid's locker. He's not sure why anyone would have cookies in a gym locker, but he doesn't question it any further. His stomach growls and he opens the lid. There's got to be at least 16 cookies in there. He scarfs down like 7 of them before he remember that he was looking for food for Stan. He scoffs, cursing the asshole for getting sick. It was Stan's own fault he's sick; Craig still doesn't know why he's helping.**

**With some great amount of will power, he shuts the cookies and brings them back over to Stan. He sets them on the ground next to the water bottle and then stands there awkwardly, not sure what else to do. He looks at Stan's face and he can see the purpling of bruises start to form. He wonders what other kind of damage he caused, and briefly wonders what damage is done to his own body. He decides that he's too tired to care. He'll just lie down until Stan wakes up; what else is there to do?**

**He sits on the ground where he's standing and slumps over. He lays on his side, staring under the bench that Stan's laying on for a couple seconds before he closes his eyes. He won't fall asleep, he tells himself. Just rest. It isn't long before he proves himself a liar.**

After having several nightmares about Mr. Garrison, Kenny, and Wendy - no, not in that particular order or all in the same one - Stan finally started drifting awake. He opened one eye, realizing he was on a bench..and he saw Craig on the floor. His first instinct was to get up, but there was a terrible heart-stopping pain in his stomach, probably from ingesting chemicals while on empty. He decided to stay quiet, because he didn't want Craig to wake up - he really did not want to talk about what had happened.

That's when he looked down and noticed a box of cookies. What the fuck? Did Craig magically pull those out of his ass - and if that was the case, Stan didn't want them - or did he actually find something? He noticed the water too, but figured it was part of Craig's stockpile. Plus, he didn't want to touch anything Craig's mouth had, even despite trying to throw the other guy off earlier by kissing him. Exchanging spit was a whole other story.

**Craig is still asleep, unstirring. He hadn't realized just how tired he was before he pretty much passed out, and he's not going to wake up any time soon. He rolls from his side and onto his back, one of his arms ending up lying on his chest. He breathes lightly, eyes still shut with his slumber.**

Staring at the other as he rolls over, Stan finally notices the bite mark on Craig's neck. Oh crap, he thought as he remembered vaguely what happened after downing the mouth wash. No wonder he hurt so bad - even though the pain from his stomach was considerably worse than any other pain, including the place Craig hit him the other day.

He frowned when he tried connecting the dots. Did Craig pull him to the bench? Was that food actually for him, and he was lying so close because he was concerned? Or was he just being a dick and waiting for an opportunity to rag on Stan, and fell asleep in the process? He glanced at the bite mark again, thinking about his first aid class earlier in the week. "Infection's possible..." He thought as he finally pushed himself off the bench to walk over to the bathroom to get cold paper towels. There was no way he would be at fault for causing Craig to get MRSA, and he knew that was a huge issue in school locker rooms.

It was really difficult to move though, and he stumbled a bit as he tried using the lockers to steady himself. They were open too, so it made it even more difficult to balance using them. All his gracefulness was gone, and he was now as about graceful as a cat drunk on catnip. He hit a few of the lockers with his hand by accident and caused them to crash into one another as he leaned on the lockers. "Goddamnit." He said out loud, looking over his shoulder at Craig.

**Craig's face scrunches up as he hears the loud banging. He opens his eyes and just kind of lays there for a second. Why is he on the floor...? Oh yeah. He sits up with a hand on his head. It's near throbbing with a headache. He's not surprised, though. He hasn't been eating and he just got punched in the head however many hours ago. **

**He finally looks around, to see what caused the banging. He sees Stan clinging to one of the lockers and doesn't even have the energy to think it's pathetic. He just kind of reaches for the water bottle and takes it in his hand. "Sit your ass back down and fucking drink this," he says, holding it in Stan's direction. He doesn't feel like playing games anymore. He'll help Stan out until he's not sick anymore, and then he's done. He won't even talk to Stan after that. Fuck this whole situation. **

**"And there's some cookies here, too, that I found in a locker."**

"No," Stan responded, "I'm fine. Just… that's yours."

He shook his head as he maneuvered his way into the bathroom by using the wall as a crutch. Walking over to the sink, he grabbed the tiny makeshift cup and filled it with water, in the sink he hadn't barfed in. Which, by the way, had made the bathroom smell like hell. "Goddamnit...I'm going to have to clean that," He grumbled as he felt his head, headache pounding. At least his dizziness had lessened.

**Craig rolls his eyes, not willing to put up with Stan's bullshit anymore. If Stan was going to be an ass and not accept his help, then Craig won't give it. "Whatever, it's not like you're afraid of my lips or something..." he mutters, stretching his arms in the air. He wasn't really ready to wake up, but he supposes he won't get much sleep now that Stan is awake anyways. He remains sitting on the floor, though, not really having anything in mind to do if he stands. **

**He takes his water bottle and takes a long drink, feeling the water fill his empty stomach. It sends a sharp pain through his stomach, and even up to his chest, but he beats the pain down. He doesn't even care at this point. He just drinks some more of the water.**

After drinking at least 50 small cups, which made him feel sicker since he hadn't eaten anything, he looked at his pale face in the mirror. He looked awful. His skin was deathly pale, except for where Craig had punched him - that was forming a dark bruise. He looked down at the sink again, and then decided to clean it later. Procrastination was easiest when you had no energy to actually do anything.

Still using the wall for balance, he walked out into the locker room and looked at Craig.  
"Oh, shit." He said, forgetting why he went to the bathroom in the first place.

Walking over to the bathroom again, he grabbed a bunch of paper towels and then put them under the water. Then he walked back and held it out to Craig, and said, "Your neck. Don't let it get infected."

**Craig doesn't say anything at first, just stares at the towels in Stan's hands. He takes them from Stan, but doesn't really do anything with them. He looks away when he starts to rub at this neck with them. He really doesn't want to think about that right now; he doesn't really care if it gets infected. In fact, he almost wants to laugh, because it would only be fitting if it got infected. Oh irony, how Craig hates you. "Eat the cookies," is all he says, standing to go over and sit on his bench. He leans lack against the lockers as he finishes with cleaning up his neck. He's pretty sure no skin was broken, but he tends to it anyway, just to be safe. Again, he starts to wonder what other kind of damage has been done to his body. He thinks about checking himself, but he doesn't care enough right now to look under his clothing. Besides, if he sees bruises, or even maybe blood, it'll only hurt more because he'll be aware of it.**

He would have argued and said no again, but he was in a lot of pain and it wasn't letting up with just water. Reluctantly, he walked over and grabbed the cookies, and then walked away and hid in the corner to eat them. He didn't want Craig to look at him eating. He turned his back to him in the lunch room, he would do the same here. After he finished, he turned and looked at Craig as he sat down on the floor and pressed his back against a wall. He wanted to say thank you, but he was still pretty ticked off that Craig beat him up. So instead of apologizing for his behavior, he decided to be shitty to him.

"You tasted better than the cookies," he said after a minute, deciding it was probably the shittiest thing he could say right now. Stupid Craig Tucker. Why did he help him? Just so he could hold it over his head?

**Craig doesn't even roll his eyes at hearing Stan's comment. He's seriously way too burnt out to even argue anymore. "Yeah, I bet I did," he says, not even looking at Stan. He just continues to look at the walls, the lockers, studying them for no reason. The cracks and dents are interesting to look at by this point.**

After a few minutes of silence Stan decided to walk over to the side of the room Craig was at, and looked at him with a sideways glance before he sat down on part of the bench nearby.

"I'm not saying thank you," He stated boldly, and then laid down on the bench and curled up on his side. He was feeling a lot better though, even though what he just ate was all sugar.

**"Good, I didn't want you to thank me anyway," he says, and it's true. If Stan started being all gracious or something then Craig would have to think about it more. Think about the fact that they're stuck together. Think about the fact that he actually had to help Stan at all, which he never planned on doing in his life. Or think about... really anything to do with Stan. Especially their fight, because he still has a headache, and remembering that punch makes it get worse every time. **

**He glances over at Stan, curled up into a ball just a short ways down his bench. He thinks about bitching about the fact that this is Craig's bench and Stan has no right to be sitting there, but he lets it go. He really just doesn't want any more conflict. Or interaction at all; good or bad. He looks away from Stan and back to the lockers. They're starting to lose their appeal, no longer interesting to look at. He contemplates getting the Gameboy again, but he knows He'll just die right away. He doesn't think his brain could keep up with a video game right now.**

Oh my god. The boredom was killing him slowly as he laid curled up on the bench. It had to be at least Sunday, right? He reached in his pocket, and pulled out his watch. Okay, it was 1 - at least it was Sunday. Even if it wasn't that late Sunday. God, why was he stuck with Craig? It was worse than starving to death. With a huge sigh, he finally said out loud,

"I'm extremely fucking depressed. I'm sorry. Usually Kyle deals with me when I'm drunk. I'm depressed because I want to go home and I want to hug my dog, I want to hug my mom, and I want to hug Kyle and Wendy. I want Wendy to talk to me. I don't want to be a huge fucking drunk. I hate myself. And I'm sorry for biting you, you didn't deserve that even if you are the world's biggest douche. And even though I hate you more than anything right now, it's not an excuse for not apologizing and thanking you because that was really cool what you did. And I have no fucking excuse for being a douche because I'm depressed because you're stuck here too. Thanks."

He hated, absolutely hated, even admitting he was wrong - so now he just moped on the bench without saying anything more. This was a learning experience, but he hated that it was.

**Craig considers ignoring Stan after he starts right out with 'I'm depressed' because Craig doesn't want to hear it, but he turns his head toward him when he keeps talking, wondering where this is all even coming from, or why Craig needs to know. He thinks about what to say for a second, and even considers not saying anything at all, before he sighs and gives in. What harm could mindless chat cause? **

**"Yeah, I miss Stripe, too. I can only hope that my mom has even noticed I'm gone and that she's taking care of him. He gets lonely when I stay out for one night; he's going to be so pissed off when I get home," he stops to let out a short, light laugh, imagining Stripe's pissed off wheeking. But he knows Stripe will be glad to see him anyways. "And Kenny," he continues. "I miss Kenny too. A fucking lot," he says. He doesn't even elaborate on that, knowing that Stan will understand what he means. There's a lot behind saying you miss someone, and Craig just wants to curl up in bed and lay there with his boyfriend for a few hours.**

"Yeah..." Stan said after a minute, realizing Craig actually might have feelings. And, granted he hated Craig, but he did like the fact Craig liked animals. Any fellow animal-lover should automatically be an okay with Stan, he didn't understand why he hated Craig so much when they shared the like for creature company.

"I'm sure Ruby noticed and fed him." He had a higher respect for Craig's sister than he did Craig, which made him think she'd probably notice after five minutes and go and feed Stripe. His dog, he was pretty sure she was being taken care of by his mother - he wasn't sure. She'd bother them if she was hungry, so Stan wasn't worried.

"Do guinea pigs do tricks?" He asked, genuinely interested. "I thought about getting one because they had one with funky hair at the shelter a few weeks ago, but I've only had hamsters."

**"I hope she did, even though she has no idea how much good to give him," he says, wondering about whether or not Ruby would even care enough. He figures she wouldn't let Stripe starve. **

**He pauses at Stan's question, trying to decide if Stan actually cares or not. Either way, telling him won't hurt. "Well you can train them, but I never trained Stripe. He answers to his name, but I figured he would like being told what to do just about as much as I do, so I don't boss him around." He thinks for a second, wondering if he should elaborate, but he doesn't. He doesn't know how interested Stan is anyways.**

"Ah," Stan said, noting how enthusiastic Craig seems about the topic. He felt kind of strange talking to Craig about something normal. He felt like he should throw in a 'bastard' or 'douche' when he was talking to him.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll take one home the next time someone brings in one. They get abandoned a lot, I don't know why. Then again, I don't get why anyone abandons animals...heartless fuckers."

**Craig looks over at Stan, wondering why they're even talking to each other. And what's more, why they're acting civil. He supposes that the fight is what finally broke them, and now there's nothing left to do but talk. "Yeah, they're pretty cool..." he says. He can't help but feel awkward talking to Stan. It feels too... normal. And that's freaky. Craig tries not to let it unnerve him though, and just enjoy the peace for once. "It sucks when pets get abandoned. I could never do something like that."**

"Neither could I. I adopted all of my pets." Stan commented offhandedly, his eyes focusing on the lockers ahead of him. It would only make it stranger to actually look in the direction of Craig. Maybe he could just pretend he was someone else and have a normal conversation and later not think about it actually being with Craig.

"They're so sad at the shelter...It makes me want to go find people who left them and guilt-trip them about it. ...so how much care is involved with guinea pigs? I don't know, I have practice a lot. I don't want to ignore a pet."

**"Well they're pretty social. If you don't pay attention to them they get depressed, and they even might get sick. They don't really eat a lot, but you have to feed them every day and give them fresh water..." he just kind of trails off, not really knowing what Stan wants to know. "Oh, and they're nocturnal, so it'll probably keep you up at night for the first week or so."**

"Nothing really wakes me up," Stan commented, though that was a lie - anyone knew he was a light sleeper. He just didn't want to admit he might not be able to handle a cute fuzzy guinea pig.

There was a pause before he said, "...I liked the pictures you reblogged of guinea pigs, I just didn't want to like them on there because I didn't want you to know I liked them."

**"Yeah, they're cute, aren't they?" Craig muses, thinking about the millions of guinea pig pictures he's seen in the past. "You post some pretty cute shit sometimes too," he comments, thinking about all the puppies and stuff. He hates seeing Stan's name on his dash, but he always appreciates the overload of fluff. Even if most of the time the posts are directed at Kenny and he doesn't really like Stan talking to Kenny, if he's being honest. That reminds him, "Did you know Kenny hates guinea pigs? He tries to act like he doesn't because he knows not to talk shit about Stripe, but really, how can you look at a guinea pig's face and hate it?"**

Stan smiled slightly, wondering if Craig was just pulling his leg. So he did like his posts. Remembering how Kenny had told him once he didn't like guinea pigs, he still was in disbelief over it. "God, I don't get Kenny. Guinea pigs are so cute, like have you seen the videos on youtube where they're chewing and people focus on their mouth? So damn cute. Especially the cheeks," He said, rambling slightly. Whenever Stan could appreciate animals, he did, in great detail. He even watched outside for animals, anything wild was fair game for cute overload.

**Craig lets out a bit of a laugh, looking at the lockers. Or, looking through the lockers, like if he tried hard enough, he'd see Stripe. "Yeah, you know, the funny part is, I just told him that the other day," he says, remembering Kenny coming to his house. It'd started off a little rocky, but eventually he'd gotten Kenny to feed Stripe. "I had to actually teach him how to feed Stripe because he didn't know how."**

"Sounds like Kenny. He avoids my dog." Stan didn't really mind that Craig laughed. Everyone did when they realized how much of an animal lover Stan was. He was made fun of a lot for it - apparently men weren't supposed to appreciate cuddly creatures. Stupid gender-specific expectations.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore, it's making me want a hug. Or see animals. That's not going to happen for at least another twenty four hours."

**Craig again doesn't say anything at first. He just kind of sits there for a moment thinking about how he should respond to that. Stan had said he was depressed, and he'd already asked for a hug once, this is twice now. Can he stomach giving Stan an actual hug? Craig isn't much of a hug person anyway, he normally just - okay he normally doesn't do anything he'd ever do with Stan. He sighs and holds an arm out in defeat. There's a space left now, for Stan to stick himself in if he actually wants a hug. "I'm only going to do this once, so make it fucking count," he says.**

Hearing Craig offer, he debated whether he really wanted to try hugging the other. It was sort of an abusive circle - every time he tried hugging Craig, he beat the crap out of him. But he found himself putting himself upright, and looking over at Craig's outstretched arm. Like a beaten puppy he edged towards Craig along the bench and then put his right arm around the others' neck, and hugged him awkwardly with his head leaning on Craig's.

"I'm going to lie about this ever happening." He commented darkly, even though inwardly he was kind of enjoying the hug, despite it being with Craig. Physical body contact was actually kind of nice after being penned up for so long. And the room was kind of cold too, so exchanging body heat was really nice...even with Craig.  
"Just...don't move for awhile."

**Craig doesn't know if he's expecting Stan to actually do it, but when he does, he can't up but feel a little awkward with Stan's head up against his. Regardless, after hesitating a moment, he brings his arm back in, successfully completing the hug. "Where the fuck am I going to go," he says, but it's not really angry. Really, it's more awkward than anything. It's not like his flesh is burning off from touching the other, but it's for sure the last thing he ever thought would be happening if he and Stan ever got locked in a room together. Like really. Oh, we're stuck in here together for three days? Let's hug it out, bro. **

**No, not what he was expecting at all. **

**But he lets Stan keep going as long as he feels necessary, not really caring. In fact, it's not actually all that terribly bad. It's tolerable.**

He leaned more on Craig, like the other could support another person's weight when he was so weak. But he did do something that involved some strength - he tightened his hold around the other just a little bit, like he was giving him a crappy bear hug.

**Craig tenses a bit when Stan tightens the hold around his neck. Stan had bitten him pretty damn hard, and the muscle there is still tender. The pressure Stan has on it is forcing Craig to notice the feel in his neck, instead of just ignoring it like he had been. Okay, he needs to stop hugging Stan now. "You should, um, stop," he says, words clipped and a little bit quiet. He can feel his blood start to pump just a bit faster, and his jugular vein throbs in the tender spot on his neck. "You're, uh, my neck. It hurts," he lies, hoping to not start another fight by giving a valid reason to deprive Stan his hug.**

Stan moved his hand further down, so he wasn't putting his hand on Craig's neck. "Sorry," He commented lazily, still hugging the other and leaning on him to support himself.

Really, he didn't have enough strength to sit up right, and leaning on Craig was the next best thing. That, and he was cold, and lonely, and all of this led to, I'm going to hug the crap out of Craig because he's the only one in this room with a heartbeat.

**Craig finds a little bit of relief in the fact that Stan's arm is no longer on his neck, but now he's thinking about it. Fuck fuck fuck, there's no way this is happening. This is purely situational, he tells himself. Stan doesn't know, and didn't know, so how could he have thought biting Craig would be a bad idea? He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to think of another reason to get Stan off of him. Because really, having someone hang on him right now probably isn't the brightest idea. He comes up with nothing though, so he's forced to continue sitting there with Stan all but in his lap. He takes a breath as nonchalantly as he can manage and tries to quiet the blood that's pumping just a little too hard.**

He was completely oblivious to Craig's discomfort. In fact, Stan decided to leaning a little more on Craig, and then he realized the other smelled a lot like wildlife. In reality, it was because he smelled like a guinea pig, and Stan associated that with good memories. For a split second his headache was lifted with a boost of positive feelings, and he had to stop himself mid-neck nuzzle because he knew he was hugging Craig. Goddamn Craig.

Instead, he decided to lower his arm finally, and he decided he wanted to use Craig as a pillow. He shifted himself so he was lying down on his back on the bench, and put his head on Craig's leg. He hadn't asked Craig, but he figured the other wouldn't push him off since he wasn't doing anything **bad**, and they had socialized a bit beforehand. Stan became incredibly touchy feely in bad situations, including holding hands, hugging, just for human comfort.

He closed his eyes and folded his arms over his middle, and then said out loud, "Dude, you smell like a guinea pig. And I never thought I'd say that's awesome...but it kinda is. I wish I had my jacket, it smells like my dog."

**Craig is getting really uncomfortable, especially now that Stan thinks it's okay to lean in more after Craig had already asked him to stop. He's also pretty sure he feels Stan start to nuzzle him before he lets go. Craig doesn't even have time to sigh his relief though, before Stan decides to lay his head right in Craig's lap. Well fuck, that's pretty goddamned counter-productive. He watches at Stan gets comfortable, folding his arms over his chest. 'Well isn't your life just fucking dandy right now,' he thinks, not much liking that Stan is getting so much comfort out of this while Craig just sits there, still trying not to think about the fact that Stan's head is in his lap. **

**He forces himself to get over it and just let it go, and he calms himself down a little bit. He doesn't know what to do with his hands, though. If it were anyone other than Stan, he would probably play with their hair. But no, hahaha, that will **_**never**_** happen. So he just kind of brings his arms up and puts his hands behind his head, leans back on them, using them as a bit of a cushion against the hard lockers. **

"**You like the way I smell?" he asks, a bit of humor leaking into his voice. "Dude, that's even gayer than kissing me was," he says, a bit of laughter behind his words. Maybe if he can just make light of the situation, he'll stop feeling so… not right. So he'll make light-hearted conversation; that always works, right? **

"Well, yeah. My car smells like a dog and I love the shit out of it." Stan said out loud, not really caring if Craig found it gay. It was a legitimate reason - hell, they hadn't seen anything remotely cute in the last two days. He was nicotine deprived, food deprived, and cuteness deprived. He was starting to forget Kyle and Wendy's faces, which really bothered him. It was funny how he hadn't been there very long but it felt like years. Maybe he was starting to like Craig simply because of the situation - he was sharing it with him. They didn't share well, but this was something neither of them wanted and they were forced to share it.

He thought briefly of what Craig might miss, simply because now he was acknowledging Craig's existence. He missed Kenny, obviously. But did he miss like physical - suddenly Stan was in a part of his mind he did NOT want to go into. But when the door was opened, he thought about it anyways. Was Craig thinking about SEX?  
Suddenly he felt really awkward on Craig's lap. But he didn't say anything about it - so he must have not cared. Right?

"...so you don't care if I'm lying on your leg, do you?" Stan asked, wondering if Craig thought it was awkward too. Maybe. Or maybe he didn't care.  
Kenny's suggestion of an orgy popped up in his head, and he started to turn red. Oh. God.

**Craig decides to completely disregard the fact that now Stan 'loves the shit out of' the way he smells, because that's crossing a whole new line of weird. "I can't say I like the way guinea pigs smell; they just smell like rodent, it's not special," he says, trying to figure out why Stan would even like it at all. Especially dog; Craig doesn't like the way they smell, he just thinks they're cute. **

**He's finally starting to relax again, settling into his sitting position. Okay, this isn't so bad. Who cares if Stan is lying in his lap? The throbbing in his neck has even died down. Everything is fine. Then Stan asks if he cares, and Craig just shrugs his shoulders. "Not anymore," he says, before he can catch himself. **_**Not anymore?**_** That's just making it obvious that Craig was having... problems with it before. Craig feels his chest sink with the realization that he actually just said that out loud, and he just hopes Stan will take it in stride and not notice anything wrong with it. He can only hope.**

"Wait..." Stan said after a moment. He didn't realize it at first and was going to let the comment pass, but then he thought about it. He didn't care anymore? Did he care about - what? Stan got up and looked at Craig, and he gave him a slightly perturbed look.  
"Wait, you cared? Okay. Okay, I'm going over there." Stan said as he got up, feeling slightly disturbed. At the same time, he felt extremely confused, but he wasn't sure if it was just because they were hungry - maybe nothing made sense because of that. Maybe general confusion was a symptom of starvation.

"Are we like, telling each other the truth about things now? Because I'd like to. If I have to spend another twenty four hours with you, I want to say what I'm thinking."

**Craig curses in his head that Stan caught it. He tries to think up some kind of lie quickly. "Uh, yeah, we aren't exactly best friends or anything, so having you lay on me isn't something that **_**should**_** be okay. But I got over it, so whatever," he says. Yeah, that's a perfectly believable excuse. Completely pertinent. He watches as Stan practically flees from him, feeling his leg go cold, having been used to the heat of his head. Well, thank God that's fucking over. **

**Honest? What could possibly be bothering him so much that he couldn't say? "Sure, whatever, we're being honest here," he says, even though he probably won't say everything that pops into mind no matter what. Like 'Hey, you bit me yesterday and now you're touching it and I'm kinda getting randy over it' isn't something he'd like to say out loud, thank you. That's actually probably something he's going to try and never even **_**think**_** again.**

Stan made it to the other side of the locker room, and sat down on the benches there. He was totally freezing now that he wasn't mentally and physically cuddled up to someone else, and it bummed him out slightly. He was trying to remind himself that he hated Craig, and he was a total douchebag, but the whole taking care of him thing was a little too much for Stan to handle. He was a very emotional person, he could literally fall in love with a rock if it gave him the reason to do so - and taking care of someone definitely threw him off.

"Uh..." It sounded pretty much normal what Craig said, but something about it didn't sound right. He decided to talk as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the lockers.

"Okay, so that whole fight thing, it turned me on but in no way was it you. It was just...because of what's going on. I'm not that horny and I'm definitely not horny for you, so don't get any ideas." Truthfully, the whole fighting thing was extremely arousing, and he couldn't stand thinking about it. "God...I hate you so much right now. Ughhhhhn." Vaguely he wondered if he could get it off quietly in the bathroom, but the echoing was a bitch and they were the only ones in here.

**Craig is shocked, to say the least, to hear Stan's confession. The fight turned him on? Who even? The only reason it had happened to Craig was because Stan bit him, and that's a huuuuuuuuge not-okay move, especially from someone like Stan Marsh. "Uh..." he says, not really knowing how to respond to it. In his head he's screaming because somehow this situation proves everyone at school right. The sexual tension hanging in the air right now is so goddamn thick, if Craig had a knife, he's pretty sure he'd be able to cut it. **

**"Yeah, um..." he tries again to say something, anything, but nothing comes out. Should he say that he was the same? If Stan pussy Marsh can admit it, then why can't Craig? What is he afraid of? "That's actually kind of why I left the fight," he says, his voice normal as he can force it. Make the sentences seem unimportant, then they won't mean as much. "Yeah, you totally bit me, and after that I just couldn't do it anymore; I had to get out of there," he says. He wonders if he should say anything about the awkward hug…? He sighs, surrendering to he-doesn't-even-know, and continues. "And it's still tender and you were totally touching it just now; which is why I tried to get you off me." **

**He thinks for a second, knowing he's not done. He has to keep a shred of dignity, right? "And yeah, it's definitely not you at all, it's just biting does that to me. Bad." He feels stupid for adding that last 'bad' but whatever, he's already fucked himself by admitting to any of it, so why not a little more self fucking rape. **

"Jesus Christ," Stan commented after a moment, realizing they were two horny bastards trapped in a small enclosed space. This was unbearable. So Craig actually was turned on too, and it creeped him out a lot that it happened in the same way. For a second, he wondered what it'd be like to - no, he wouldn't even think of that. Doing it with Craig? No. Definitely not.

But then again, they had like fifty 'let's never speak about this again' moments, and regardless of how much his brain was saying no, it was so hunger-deprived that his body was making the decisions. Everything was becoming primitive and uncontrollable.  
"Okay, I'm hungry, I'm lonely, and I'm depressed. I'm pretty sure we've done ten other things we're both ashamed of, and after we leave here I am never talking about anything that went down in this room. Do you want to do something? If not, I'm going to go jack off in the bathroom. I'm sick of pretending I'm not human and even though I'm starving to death, I'm horny as hell."

**Craig is completely shocked, yet again. Did Stan really just ask him to mess around? Talking about it is one thing... but **_**doing**_** it? Craig isn't even hot or bothered anymore, considering he'd had time to cool off after Stan was touching his bite. If Stan is saying he's currently horny, though, Craig doesn't want to have to listen to Stan jacking it, because, well, at this point that would probably just make Craig worse again. But then again, Craig is with Kenny. Craig would **_**never**_** cheat, no matter what the circumstances. **

**Then he considers who he's dating. Kenny had a thing for Stan anyway, right...? He tries to imagine Kenny being upset about this and, well, he can't. All he sees in his head is Kenny cheering them on. Ugh, he's dating an idiot. But he likes his idiot, so that's perfectly okay. **

**So morals out of the way, what is he supposed to do? He's not even... then he smirks. Okay, if they're going to do anything, they're going to do it fucking right. If Craig lacks motivation, Stan will just have to **_**motivate him**_**. **

"**Alright," he says, his tone easy and laid back. He leans back against the locker, giving Stan a look. "I'm totally not turned on anymore, though, so if you want my help, you're going to have to get me into it." **

**It's a challenge. A gross, completely wrong in every single way challenge, but a challenge. He raises an eyebrow, allowing the crooked smirk to spread on his face."Well you still down or not?" he asks. **

**stan marsh**

"Well fuck you." Stan said as he glared off at the lockers, which were separating him and Craig. "I'm not giving you a fucking blow job, Tucker." He got up and walked over to his locker, bending down and steadying himself with the door as he grabbed a jasper breeze lotion. With it in hand, he walked off without acknowledging Craig's comment.

"Taking a shower," he said as he was halfway into the bathroom, and then he said, "If you follow me I swear to God I will strangle you." He was half-lying, he really didn't care if Craig walked in or not. And with the shower running, he could do other things without worrying too much...it wasn't like he was going to go all out and yell praises for his own amusement. And he really doubted Craig wanted to see anything anyways.

**Craig scoffs, folding his arms in front of his chest. "I didn't tell you to blow me, I told you to turn me on," he says. He raises an eyebrow in challenge. "But I get it; you're scared because you know you can't do it," he says, watching Stan walk toward the bathroom. He knows Stan is only showering for the **_**third time**_** so he can go in there and beat himself off, so he's not sure why he's still pushing. But he does push, which is the weird thing. Why does he care? He continues to give Stan the same daring look.**

If there was one thing Stan couldn't stand, it was someone giving him a challenge. And it wasn't like he cared what Craig thought, but he was pushing him in a way Stan didn't want to be pushed. It reminded him of the dare he never completed. He hated that he cared what people thought of him, and this dare - it was really just what Craig thought of him - who he didn't give two shits about. But now he was staring at him, and Stan wasn't through the doorway to the bathroom yet. He turned and looked at Craig, holding the bottle of lotion in his hand.

He wanted to be turned on? Then fine. He was going to torture the sick bastard. Who got turned on by biting, anyways?

There was a moment where he looked at the lotion, and then thought of something. He walked around to grab his tooth brush and tooth paste, and then went in the bathroom to brush his teeth, completely ignoring Craig.

When he was finished, he walked out without the lotion and casually walked over to Craig. Then when he was standing directly in front of the other, he climbed up onto Craig's lap suddenly - grabbed his collar and slammed him against the locker, although not as hard as he had yesterday. With one hand snaking up to Craig's neck, he dug his nails into the bite mark and forcefully put his lips on Craig's mouth.

**Craig watches Stan consider, and for a second, he thinks he might actually do it. But then Stan goes to his locker, grabs his tooth brush, and goes back into the bathroom. Fine then, whatever. It's not like Craig was looking forward to messing around with Stan or anything, so it was Stan's loss, not Craig's. He hears the water run as Stan brushes his teeth and rolls his eyes. Who even keeps a tooth brush at school? **

**Then Stan exits the bathroom, and Craig figures that the moment is over so he doesn't expect it when Stan approaches him. And then suddenly Stan is straddled over his lap, and their mouths are smashed together. Craig feels nails in his neck, **_**right on the bite**_**, and his eyes fall tightly shut to try and block out the sensation. **

**Okay, so this is happening. Alright. **

**Craig doesn't figure this is going to be anything taken lightly, so he does whatever he thinks feels right. He just can't think about the fact that this is Stan Marsh in his lap. He parts his lips, taking Stan's bottom between his teeth. At the same time, he slides his arms around Stan's middle, letting his hands make their way down Stan's back. They don't stop until they're both firmly planted on Stan's ass. He grips his hands and pulls forward a little, bringing Stan closer to himself. **

_**Goddamn**_** those nails in his neck. **

The way Stan tried to keep himself from wanting to back off was picturing someone else besides Craig - but it was hard not to picture Craig considering his nose was being assaulted with the smell of Craig's jacket. When he felt Craig's hands sliding underneath his shirt and down to his ass, and then pulling him closer, he felt a tremor of anticipation radiate through his body. But what won over was his anger that the other went straight for his ass - he was pretty sure he did it just to see how far he could go. And Stan did not approve of the exploration of his ass by the pioneers who were Craig's hands.

Pulling his lip away from Craig's teeth, he reached up and tried sliding off Craig's jacket. If he was going to go for his ass, Stan was going to strip the bastard.

**Craig takes the moment to breathe when Stan pulls his face away. He doesn't really bother resisting his jacket being taken off his body because he assumes he's about to be too hot to want it on anyways. Wait - okay - he shouldn't be thinking that way. But he, unfortunately, **_**is**_** so he shrugs the jacket off his shoulders and lets Stan pull it the rest of the way off. He lets go of Stan's ass so that his sleeves can slide over his hands, and he can only hope that Stan has enough balance to not fall backwards off the bench.**

Throwing the jacket aside, Stan did have enough balance to keep himself perched on the edge of the bench. He stared at Craig icily and said, "Remove your shirt."

**Craig gets a little peeved that Stan thinks he can tell Craig what to do, but he does it anyway; if only because - goddamn he hates to admit it - but he wants to feel hands on his skin. He reaches down between them and grips the hem of his shirt, bringing it up and over his head, tossing it the way of his jacket. He doesn't much care if Stan has a shirt on or not because it's still **_**Stan**_**. He reaches up and takes Stan's face in his hands, forcing him to come back down for another kiss. He doesn't know why he does, because kissing isn't something they should really be doing, but he does it anyway. **

**Okay, so now he's for sure starting to feel it again.**

With his heart racing, he watched Craig remove his shirt. He was trying to tell himself that he wasn't attracted to Craig, and that anything that was happening was purely situational. Draping his left arm over Craig's right shoulder and digging his nails into his back - he then arched his neck to plant a kiss right on top of Craig's left shoulder. At first, it seemed like he was being sweet, but Stan had other plans. Quite a list of them.  
He then murmured against Craig's skin, "I'm going to eat you alive,"

And then he bit into Craig's shoulder, pressing his teeth against the others skin.

**Craig doesn't quite understand when Stan kisses his shoulder. But God. **_**Damn**_**. Stan's words, along with the tone in his voice, make Craig's pulse actually stutter, and when Stan sinks his teeth into his skin, it goes straight to his dick. A somewhat strangled groan escapes his throat. He tries to keep it in, but there's no way. He drops his head forward and into Stan's own shoulder. He tries to keep his breathing even but it's not really working out. He needs to grab onto something, so he grabs the first thing his hands can find: Stan's hips. He grips them tight in his hands, not even caring that it's Stan anymore.**

After he was sure he had made teeth marks on Craig's shoulder, he then moved his mouth away a centimeter but dragged his teeth along Craig's skin. The tip of his tongue grazed Craig's shoulder as he moved along, and then bit down a little further down Craig's chest.

He actually was feeling very aroused, but he was too determined to prove Craig wrong that he had gotten lost in the moment. And it did seem like Craig was reciprocating his affections, with his body language. Both of Stan's hands moved down Craig's bare chest, his fingertips lingering slowly as he whispered, "So are you turned on?"

**Craig continues to clutch to Stan's hips as Stan moves on to bite him once again. Damn, okay, he definitely shouldn't have told Stan that this gets him going so bad because all Stan is going to do now is abuse it. And he doesn't even know anything about Stan to use back against him. What an asshole. **

**Craig feels Stan run his hands along his chest and then he hears him whisper. Does he even have to ask? Craig is all but a mess right now, but he supposes that he's keeping his cooled front up okay, even with what's happening. "Just a little," he says. He's not sure if Stan will take it sarcastically or if he'll take it literally, but he doesn't really care, either. He brings one of his hands away from Stan's hip and runs it up the back of his shirt, holding it there to keep Stan from getting too far away. **

_**Keep him from getting too far away?**_** The fuck.**

His hands sunk lower, drifting down to the top of Craig's pant line. He slipped them around the edge, trailing further. "Mmm, okay..." Then he looked up at Craig, his eyes locking with the others as he felt Craig's hand move from his hip to his back. Was he trying to keep him where he was? What?

Even though he was physically turned on, and he felt himself reacting in every inch of his body, he looked at Craig and smiled as he brought one hand upwards and then shoved him really hard against the locker.

He then started to move off the other's lap, standing up next to the bench. God, the headache was horrible, but the feeling from intimacy was burning inside of him; keeping it severely muted. Other organs were currently servicing a higher priority.

"Dare completed, you bastard."

**Craig is a little surprised when Stan goes right for his pants. Well, he has to admit, he never expected Stan to be this forward. If fact, he kind of suspected Stan was a virgin with the way he kept telling Craig not to look when he showered. Then Stan looks up at him and smiles. The Hell - he's smiling? And that's when Stan shoves him, and Craig's back connects with the cold metal locker as his lap is promptly vacated. **

**He stares for a second, not really believing that Stan just **_**ditched**_** him. He knows Stan is an asshole, but really? Stan is fucking one who asked for this in the first place! Well fine, Craig can play this game. **

**"Really? You're such a fucking dick; you're the one the one that wanted this. Well you know what? I'm randy as fuck now, so you get to sit there while I take care of it," he says. He glares Stan in the eye as he opens up his pants. He starts to reach his hand inside.**

Stan grimaced when he turned his back, and Craig said he was the one who wanted this. Actually, he did. He did want some sort of intimate contact, but he wasn't about to lose his virginity with an asshole like Craig.

"Have fun with that," He said plainly as he walked off, his face still as straight as a board as he stalked off towards the bathroom. There was lotion in there still, and despite the puke drying in the sink, he'd rather jack it in there then get horny on Craig's lap. Or so he thought, because he was so pissed with him.

Just as he got three feet away from Craig, he started talk-singing a familiar tune half-heartedly, "Dig me now, fuck me later, and sing it to the tune of faggot faggot faggot. Dig me now, and fuck me later, and sing it with that... I've been denied all the best... ultrasex..."

Obviously, it was to irritate Craig. Not only was he singing a song from a band he had made fun of Craig for liking, but he **knew the words**. He turned the corner and headed into the bathroom.

**Craig laughs at Stan's half-assed attempt at irritation. "If that's some kind of secret code for 'come and get me' it's not going to happen. If you want me, you're going to have to get your fucking ass back over here before I lost interest," he says. He watches as Stan walks away, waiting for a response before he actually starts to touch himself. Because he'd rather wait until he can't see Stan anymore if he's about to start jacking it; that's really not the image he wants in his head.**

"You wish," Stan called from the doorway. He was already walking into the bathroom when went for his towel hanging on the stall. "Make me, bastard."

He took off his shirt, even though inside he was wondering if it was a bad thing to do. After all, Craig was now horny, and he had just taunted him. Then again, he didn't think Craig had the guts to come in and demand something unrealistic.

He walked over to the shower and turned it on, hoping it'd drown out the sound of Craig's voice. If he was going to bitch about having blue balls, he didn't want to hear it.

**Craig stands, not bothering to zip his pants back up. It's not like he's out, so what does it matter. He strolls right on over to the bathroom. "Was that a **_**challenge**_** I heard?" he asks, emphasizing 'challenge' because that's all Stan apparently saw this as. Not that Craig sees it as anything more, he just feel like being a dick and making the whole thing some kind of competition. At least then Craig won't have to hang himself later; he'll be able to tell himself that it was just a game. He stares Stan down, competitive gleam in his eye. He crosses his arms over his bare chest and quirks a brow, waiting for a response.**

"Sure." Was Stan's only response as he unzipped his pants, and threw them over the divider separating the showers. He walked over and tested the water, and then wondered briefly if he should put his pants back on, or run to the bathroom and hide in it. He wasn't really that worried, after all Craig was with Kenny and he really didn't think he had the guts to try anything with one of Kenny's best friends ever. Then again, he still hadn't figured out if Kenny was involved at all with this situation, even though he didn't want to think about it, it did linger in the back of his mind.

**Craig smirks when Stan says "Sure." Does he really think Craig won't? Especially with permission? After Stan all but jumped him? After all this shit that's happened already? Fuck, the least he's going to do it get Stan back for leaving him fucking hanging like that. **

**He takes the few strides across the room and catches Stan by the wrist. He pulls him away from the shower and all but throws him against the nearest wall. He manages to get a hold of both of Stan's wrists and pins them against the wall on either side of his head. He leans in close, menacing. "You don't have any idea who you're fucking dealing with, do you?" he asks, his voice low. It can barely be heard over the sound of the shower running in the background. He ducks his head and runs the flat of his tongue along Stan's throat, making sure he's got a firm grip on Stan's hands. He moves the lower half of his body as well, making sure he's just close enough so Stan could never get in a good kick or something, but not close enough for their bodies to touch.**

He was completely oblivious that Craig would even be bold enough to try approaching him in the shower, much less grab his wrist and drag him to the nearest wall to throw him at it. At first, he tensed up and tried to keep Craig from pulling him, but it was impossible with the slippery floor and nothing to grab onto but Craig.

The minute he hit the wall, he froze, a look of pure horror on his face. Trying to grasp what just happened, it was probably all too easy to grab his hands and pin them. At first he couldn't speak, and when Craig went for his throat, he shifted uneasily as he looked towards the lights instead of at Craig. He felt the surface of Craig's tongue running along his throat, and he tensed up again, shutting his eyes.

"G-get off me," he said quietly, almost a pained whisper.

**Craig stops the trail of his tongue long enough to simply ask, "Why?" before latching himself back onto Stan's neck. He takes a patch of the skin between his lips and sucks at it, rolling his tongue against the flesh in his mouth. He feels the urge to press his body forward, to rock their hips together, but he thinks that's too much for now. After all, Stan is naked, and Craig is going to tease the fuck out of him for being such a goddamn prick. He tightens his hold the tiniest bit on Stan's wrists, reminding him that he doesn't have to get off until he damn well pleases.**

"No - just - just get off me," Stan stuttered slightly, trying to move his hands but found Craig had only tightened his grip. It was actually starting to hurt. He was painfully aware of every single touch and placement of Craig's lips, and it was aggravating every single part of him. With a slight struggle, he tried to free himself again but found he was only getting a bit more frightened - whether it was over what was actually happening, or that he might like it, he wasn't sure. And he didn't particularly care to kick Craig - he didn't think he could handle any more fighting after feeling so shitty.

**The stuttering in Stan's voice tells Craig that he doesn't actually mean it. He can feel Stan half-assedly trying to free his wrists, and it makes him smirk into Stan's neck. "You don't want me to," he says, licking back up Stan's neck again. He stops at Stan's ear. "At least not honestly," he continues, letting his darkly soft words settle directly in Stan's ear. He lets his head linger near Stan's head as he pushes one of his legs forward, letting his knee hit the wall between Stan's legs. "If you can honestly tell me you want me to stop, I will. I'm not into forcing people. But remember that **_**you're**_** the one who challenged me," he says in that same quiet tone from before. He feels good, to have this much power over someone, and he somehow knows, or at least suspects, that Stan likes it too. Maybe that's why Stan is such a defiant little bitch; because he's waiting for someone to take control of him. Well right now Craig is in control, and that's not about to change quickly.**

"I fucking hate you," Stan said as he directed his gaze away from Craig. In fact, he couldn't say he didn't want to do anything, because obviously his body was reacting differently, and his judgment was severely impaired. What was meant to be his momentary pause in expressing his train of thought on Craig's offer to thought turned in a gaping hole in the conversation, and he kept his eyes off of Craig completely. In fact, he just stayed abnormally quiet, hoping he could ignore that his heart was beating

**He lets out a chuckle, and lifts his head to look at Stan, even though Stan isn't looking at him."I fucking hate you more than you even **_**know**_**," he says agreeing with Stan. "But that's not an answer," he says. He would force Stan to look at him, but that would require letting go of his hands, so he doesn't do that. He does, however, consider where his leg is. He could use it to coax an answer out of him, if he really feels like it. And, actually, he does. The sooner he can get Stan to admit one way or the other, the sooner he can get on with his life. So he moves his leg, just a bit, and starts using it to rub his thigh up against Stan. He might be able to ignore Craig's words, but he can't ignore this.**

The second the material from Craig's pant leg rubbed up against Stan, he made a slight gasp as he tried to refrain from reacting. Instead, he found himself reacting to it down there. With a shudder he tried stifling the urge to do anything, but being pinned didn't help. In fact it was reminding him of Wendy, and he really wanted to not imagine Wendy right now because he was afraid he was going to give consent.

He couldn't stand it after less than a minute, and he looked at Craig and then leaned forwards so his back curved, pushing his lips against his.

**Craig accepts the kiss, even if he wasn't really expecting it, and pushes into it. Maybe he was right; maybe Stan has a thing for being dominated. Well that's fucking great, because Craig is damn good at that. He slowly lets his tongue slip out, attempting to lick his way past Stan's lips. It might be a bad idea because Stan's tongue isn't pierced, and that will only further remind Craig that this isn't Kenny he's got pressed against a wall, but he doesn't care. He doesn't care at all anymore; not at this point. They've already done too much fucked up shit in the past few days to not add making out to the list so, what the Hell. He doesn't stop his leg from its movements, and even presses them the smallest bit closer together until their chests are almost touching.**

With a quivering breath, Stan pushed himself against Craig as the other did; maneuvering his tongue into Craig's mouth as if he were sparring with him. It really wasn't all that bad, besides the fact it was Craig, and he really didn't want to be making out with him. Really. And for the life of him he couldn't figure out a way to get Craig to let him go, and at this point with the rubbing he really doesn't want him to go.

He draws his tongue back, pressing his teeth into Craig's as he pulls away and then says with a slight tremor to his voice, "Just let me go, I'll do whatever you want."

**Craig feels Stan's tongue work its way into his mouth, and he can't help but to feel some kind of internal victory over the other. Yeah, Stan wasn't the only one who knew how to get someone riled up. Craig was right though, and he does feel that pang of disappointment when there isn't a metal bar through Stan's tongue for him to play with. Definitely not as much fun as he'd have with Kenny. **

**Then Stan sticks his teeth in Craig's tongue, and Craig can't help the tiny groan that he lets out. He gives Stan an amused look at hearing his words. "Damn, you say it like I'm making you do this against your fucking will," he says, letting his hands loosen anyways. He lets his hands fall along Stan's arms, down his torso, and eventually landing back on his hips. "When really you're the one who started this," he adds, tugging Stan's hips tight against his own and going back in for another kiss.**

Lowering his arms, which felt slightly numb from being held up - he placed them on Craig's chest, running them up to the back of Craig's neck along the spine as he moved in to press himself against Craig fully. Joining their mouths back together, he pushed his tongue past Craig's lips and ran his tongue against the bottom of Craig's front teeth; meanwhile pushing him towards the running shower, walking him towards the newly predetermined destination. His fingers ran through the back of Craig's dark hair, trying to distract him from realizing where he was making him walk backwards to.

**Craig notices Stan pushing away from the wall, and he thinks about trying to stop him, but ultimately decides against it. Whatever Stan is doing, it can't be that bad; there's no way he'd ditch him again. Especially not when Craig can feel Stan getting this fucking hard. **

**He feels Stan's hands in his hair and vaguely wonders if Stan has any idea that he likes that too. He knows there's no way Stan could know though, so he just rolls with it. He slides his hands up from Stan's hips, up his back, and wraps his arms around his middle. **

**It's getting harder and harder for Craig to breathe properly, and he's starting to not care that Stan is the one doing it to him. So what if it's Stan?**

Once he had moved them close enough to the shower, he moved into the stream of lukewarm water and dragged Craig with him. The water hit his face, and then Craig's hair, and he still massaged his fingers against Craig's skull, pressing them down as he explored Craig's mouth with his tongue. Then he removed one hand from Craig's hair, and moved it to the turn dial for the shower.

He cranked it all the way to freezing.

He was perfectly aware Craig was in his pants still, and he also knew that cold water did not mix with sexual tension like the type that was flowing between them right now. And despite being hard, he pulled away from Craig and grabbed his pants from the shower stall's wall, and walked off with his wet feet slapping against the tile.

**Craig feels the water hit him and doesn't really enjoy it because messing around in the shower together might be just a step too far, but what does it even matter anymore? **_**Everything**_** they've done has been a step too far. Then he feels the water go cold and he furrows his eyebrows together in annoyance. He's about to ask what the hell, but then Stan walks away. **_**Again**_**. **

**"Ugh, what the fuck! You unbelievable bastard!" he says, bringing his hands up to his hair to pull at it in his extreme frustration. He's so pissed off that he can't even think anymore, and his body is still failing to grasp the concept that there's no longer another body pressed up against it. He shuts the water off, and if it could slam, it would have. He throws off the rest of his wet clothing and looks around for something to cover up with. The only thing he sees is Stan's towel, along with that thing of the girly lotion. At this point, fuck Stan. He doesn't even fucking care; he'll do it himself. **

**He grabs the towel and the lotion and back out to his bench, not bothering to use the towel to cover up. No he has other plans for that goddamed towel. He sits back on his bench, giving Stan an icy glare. "If you think I'm going to fucking come back again, you're wrong. You're on your fucking own," he says squeezing some of the lotion into his hand. Stan's on his own, and Craig is on his own. He's going to jack it right there, and then use Stan's towel to clean up with just to spite the bastard.**

"Yeah. I know." Stan replied without missing a beat, and watched Craig take his towel. What the hell. That was his towel. Rolling his eyes, he figures Craig just wants to jizz on something that Stan wiped himself with - what a sick bastard. Without caring too much, he picked up his shirt off the counter and walked out to the room, grabbing another bottle of lotion and walked back to the bathroom and walked into the stall and shut the door. With his back against the door, he put his pants on with some difficulty and then didn't pull them up all the way. He felt filthy, right down to what he was wearing, because of having touched Craig in many unspeakable ways with more limbs then he cared to. Instead of starting to jack it in the stall by himself, he decided to lean against the door, feeling physically and mentally exhausted.

**Craig doesn't even care anymore, he isn't the one that wanted it in the first place, so what **_**should**_** he fucking care? His hand is just as fucking good as Stan would be anyways, he sure. **

**He sets to work and lets his head fall back against the lockers at the feel of **_**finally**_** being paid attention to. He pumps his hand quickly, just wanting to get off and be done with this whole ordeal. Seriously, what was Stan's fucking angle getting Craig all worked up and then dropping him on his ass? There was **_**no**_** point at all.  
When he's done, he cleans himself up with Stan's towel, taking great pleasure in the fact that he's ruined it and that Stan won't be able to use it anymore. He's kind of cold, considering his skin and hair are still damp from the water and he looks around for something to put on. Obviously his pants are wet so those aren't an option. He picks up his hoodie, puts it on and zips it up, before laying back on his bench. He's still pissed off, and all he wants to do is fall asleep so he can forget about this whole fucking thing.**

Stan finally half-assedly relieves himself of his tension by using the lotion and his alone time hand on himself. He kept incredibly quiet, not wanting Craig to hear even a moment of what he was doing. When he was done he cleaned himself off with toilet paper, and then zipped up his pants and went and washed his hands in the cleanest skin. They were running out of places where they hadn't destroyed it in some shape or form.

Grabbing his shirt again from the top of the stall and pulling it over himself, he walked out and saw a pantless Craig lying on his bench. He would have laughed if it wasn't so sad.

Without saying anything, he walked over to his locker and yanked out the rest of his clean shirts and a couple of semi-dirty ones. There was about four different colored shirts, all with team logos on them. Walking over with the stack, he unfolded one and laid it over Craig's middle, and then put two more over his bottom half. It was too fucking cold in this room for him to be lying around naked.

He still hadn't spoken as he walked over to the bench and pulled himself up on top of the lockers with what energy he had left, and then he laid on his back and stared at the ceiling. No, he wouldn't be able to sleep.

**Craig does his best to ignore Stan as he comes back into the room. The less he has to even think about Stan for the rest of the time they're stuck in here, the fucking better. He just keeps his eyes shut and doesn't pay attention. **

**Then he feels something being put on him, and he tenses, but continues to try to ignore Stan. Somehow he'll figure out a way to block out the fact that there's now shirts covering him. Okay, probably not. He hears Stan climb back up onto the lockers without saying anything, and Craig wonders what the fuck just happened. So... Stan sexually advances on him, and then leaves him before anything can happen, **_**twice**_**, and then decides to suddenly stop being such a dick and cover him up? What the fuck...? **

**"I don't understand you at all," he finds himself saying, continuing to face the lockers right in front of him. "I seriously fucking hate you."**

"I don't get you either. Fuck off." Stan replied nonchalantly, his eyes focused on the ceiling. At least he hadn't seen anymore bright lights - that was probably the freakiest part of drinking mouth wash. He was pretty sure that never happened before. His mind drifted to Craig trying to take the aftershave away, and he rolled his eyes as he tried to tell himself Craig was a douche.

"We went too far. I didn't want you to top me." He added, knowing it was horribly worded. That, and he hinted he would have been on bottom, which was freaky in itself.

"Just deal with it. You're such a bitch."

**Craig doesn't even have anything to say at first. He just closes his eyes and sighs, fed up with everything. Maybe he should just give up and lay here until they're let out. Just try to go to sleep. **

**He finds that he's not very tired though, somehow, so he starts to think that maybe he should respond. Somewhat civil conversation might be a good thing, but then again, every civil conversation they've had has ended in some kind of fight. He thinks about what they were doing and wonders where it could have gone. Could he even picture an end to it? "I don't think I would have let myself actually fuck you anyways," he says, deciding that it might be true. Sure, he was horny as fuck, and Stan was right there, but he would have felt too guilty that it wasn't Kenny. Then again, he wasn't exactly thinking clearly during the whole act; he might have gotten caught up in the heat of the moment and then regretted it later. Now that he's thinking about it, he's actually kind of thankful that Stan stopped him. "Probably," he adds, knowing that with the way things were going, he might have done anything if it felt good enough.**

"Yeah." Stan responded, even though it wasn't a response that made sense. He didn't know how to reply to 'probably wouldn't have fucked you'. For a moment he thought of dropping the conversation and trying to sleep for once, but he was now awake and probably would be until they were rescued from this terrible situation.

"Even if I hate you, I don't want to make you miserable. That includes persuading you to fuck me and then both of us having to think about that fucking awful memory later."  
It was actually the truth, and there wasn't a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Sorry about your pants."

At this, he actually started to smile. When he realized that, he tried to bite the inside of his cheek - but it was too late. He couldn't stifle the snort of laughter, and after he did it, he covered his mouth with one hand and hoped Craig didn't catch it.

**Craig snorts at Stan's comment. "Really? You think I won't already be miserable over what you did to me?" he asks. He doesn't elaborate 'what Stan did to him' because he doesn't want to say 'because you turned me on really bad and then totally left me with a boner in my pants'. Something doesn't seem right about that sentence, and it's pretty obvious why. "Fucking would have just been the goddamn cherry on top," he continues, because really, this memory will be even more terrible with the fact that he got denied thrown in. Like he's not good enough for Stan to want to fuck or something. Woah, okay, let's not go there.  
He rolls his eyes at that last comment from Stan, though. "You fucking did it on purpose 'cause you knew I'd take them off and wanted an eyeful," he says. It's not taunting, though, which is weird. It's almost... playful, though Craig would never use that word to describe it.**

Stan was still grinning, knowing Craig couldn't see his face - so why not? With a grin, he stared at the ceiling, really trying not to laugh. Craig really did get blue balls over him, and he found that so hilarious. Stan hadn't really done anything besides masturbate for the last month - well besides fun times with Kenny and Kyle, he really only lived with his good 'ole hand. But it seemed like Craig couldn't stand to bat one off himself.  
With the grin widening, he said out loud in perhaps a too-amused voice,

"Yeah, that's pretty much it."

**Craig just kind of continues to stare at the lockers in front of him, resisting the amused smirk that threatens his features. Are they actually joking about what just happened? That seems like something they should never bring up again, but here they are, cracking wise. "I always knew you wanted my nuts," he says. "Everyone at school was right." He doesn't really know what else to say, so he just goes with it, following the conversation. **

**It all honesty, he's a lot more relaxed now that he's beat one off. Maybe that's really what was bothering him was sexual frustration, because now he feels a lot better. He just kind of lays there, content to not move. Even if he's still starving, he's okay at the moment.**

"Sure, because they're **so** desirable." Stan responded, rolling his eyes. He wasn't really in the mood to joke about it, but now that Craig had said something, he had to respond. Though, he wondered slightly if 'fucking would have been the cherry on top', if Craig regretted not doing something.

"I probably would have let you do something if I hadn't doused you in cold water." Stan said out loud, not really caring anymore if it was inappropriate, provocative, or even mean. Why care? Time had slowed to literally a snail's pace.

"So did you really want to do something more than making out?"

**Craig hesitates to respond, not really knowing the truthful answer. "Well the first time I was just kind of going with it; I had no idea what I wanted out of it," he says, figuring that's about as honest as it's going to get. "And actually the second time I was just pissed off so I was going to do the same thing to you, but I got caught up in the moment and you ended up beating me to it because you're an asshole," he says. He realizes that he never answered the 'did you want it to go further' part, but he just kind of hopes Stan either won't notice or he'll just let it slide. After all, Craig actually answered most of the question, which is more than Stan would get on a normal day.**

"Eh..." Stan muttered, losing the smile he had a few seconds before. He started to realize that after all that had happened, he actually may have had some sort of ...feelings? If one could call that, for Craig. There was nothing he could do about it. The bastard had cared for him, found him food - which he greatly appreciated, he couldn't say how he would be feeling if he hadn't eaten after swallowing toxic chemicals - he very well could have saved his life. And he just gave Craig blue balls...twice.

Furrowing his brow, he didn't respond for a good few minutes, not wanting to deal with what he suddenly was thinking about. But then again, Craig did admit how he felt about what Stan did - the whole biting thing. His judgment was severely impaired as he tried to focus on not caring how Craig felt right now, but now that he had heard him sound slightly pissed, then say 'the first time I was going with it', it sounded like...more? No, he didn't want that, but...then again. No, Stan was genuinely confused. His strong empathy was making it hard for him to not give a shit.

"Sorry." He finally said, and then slid down from the lockers. Walking into the bathroom, he grabbed Craig's pants and threw them up over the stall door, so they wouldn't mold on the floor and potentially dry out by the time they were found. Slowly edging around the corner, he stared at Craig.

**Craig takes Stan's apology, but doesn't respond to it. What's he supposed to say? It's okay? Don't worry about it? No, it definitely wasn't cool for Stan to do, and just because Craig is currently over it, doesn't mean he's going to forgive Stan. Ever. He listens to Stan walk away and just sighs deflatedly. He curls up a bit more on his bench, wishing he had the ability to fall asleep.**

Stan stared at Craig still, noting the sigh and sighing himself as if it were contagious. He walked over to his locker, and opened it - to find his underwear. After slipping off his pants and putting on his underwear, he walked over to Craig and held out his pants.

"...here, you can wear mine until yours are dry."

He actually felt awful staring at Craig, who was now curled up in the fetal position. He was feeling compelled to give him an impromptu hug, but he knew that wouldn't go over well - and well, you never hug a bro who had no drawers on.

**Craig considers not responding but figures that would be pointless, considering Stan is trying to help, not start another fight. He sits up and accepts the pants. He stands, letting the t-shirts all off him and not really caring that he's now near nude because Stan already saw anyways. He pulls the pants on and fastens them before sitting back on his bench. All he really wants to do is curl back up into his ball, but now that he's sitting up, he's afraid that if he lays down he'll never get back up. **

**Then he snickers a bit, thinking of something funny. "Looks like I got into your fucking pants after all," he says, thinking that it's the funniest, most ironic thing that's happened this entire time.**

Stan stared at Craig. Actually, that was a really, really funny comment- but since it came from Craig's mouth, Stan didn't laugh. In his mind, he just was amazed how Craig had put two and two together, but he just couldn't vocally appreciate it because it would be confirming that he made Stan remotely amused in a decent, friendly way.  
So instead, Stan said, "Yeah. Guess you did."

He sat down next to Craig on the bench, grabbing one of the shirts and put it over his bottom half. Leaning on the bench, he stared off and for a moment focused on all the pain - his face, his wrists, and ...wait. Did he feel a hickey? He felt up where Craig - oh. That bastard gave him a hickey. What a dick. Considering he used Craig as a pincushion for his teeth though, he was sure they were even on some level.

"Actually, what happened in the bathroom really turned me on. Just...don't repeat that. The whole restraining me thing." He wanted to say 'controlling', but he was feeling kind of sickened by the whole thing anyways.

**Craig lets Stan sit next to him, even though he doesn't know how close he wants Stan to be right now. Craig might be acting nicely, but he's still a little pissed off and he'd rather not be near the other. But he supposes it's not going to hurt anything and just lets it happen. Craig feels a tiny, knowing smirk tug at his lips, but he mostly represses it. "Yeah, I kinda figured... But it'd not like I need to know; it's not happening again," he says, wondering why Stan told him not to repeat it. Is he still expecting Craig to jump him or something? Either way, he doesn't care. He leans back against the lockers, his back starting to hurt from being hunched over. He's actually in a lot of pain still; from the fight, from the starvation, from everything. He could really use an asprin. Or - hey - a cigarette. **

**He pats his pocket and is joyed to find that the carton is still in there. He takes one out but hesitates to put it away. He thinks about it for a secind, and finally sighs and pulls out a second one, handing it to Stan. He really doesn't want to share, but he knows what nicotine deprivation feels like; not good. He doesn't say anything about the cigarette and just offers Stan his lighter after he lights his own. He hopes Stan won't mention it and just fucking accept it as it is, but he knows that's not likely.**

Stan took the cigarette in his fingers, almost fumbling it, like holding a cigarette is something you can lose in three days. He stared at it, and then back at Craig, and then narrowed his eyes as if he expected something was attached to this. Not only did he almost save Stan's life, but now he was giving him a cigarette?

"Do I have to give you a blow job for this or something?" Stan said, and quickly added, "Because if that's the case, you can take it back."

**Craig frowns, not in the mood for confrontation. "Can't I just be fucking nice? I know what addiction is, asshole, and I figure you've been in enough pain already, but fuck, if you don't fucking want it, give it back," he says, holding out his palm. If Stan isn't going to accept his help, then he'll revoke his offer, simple as that.**

"No, I want it," Stan replied, beau guarding the cigarette now that he had it in his hands. He held it tenderly like it was a baby in the hand furthest away from Craig. "I need your lighter though. I don't have mine." Obviously.

He gave Craig another shifty glance, like this was some sort of evil trick. Cigarettes was one thing Stan did not mess around with - if Craig was going to try and take it back before he could actually use it, he would, most definitely, bite the other's hand off.

**Craig scoffs, handing over his lighter. This is what he gets for being nice; Stan turns back into a little bitch. He tries to ignore it though, puffing on his own cigarette. He only has two left now... Hopefully Stan doesn't expect him to share again because Craig doesn't know how much longer they'll be stuck in here. Craig glances over at him, lighting his cigarette. Something catches his eye though that he hadn't noticed before. He gives a short guffaw, not even knowing he'd done it. "Nice hicky," he comments.**

"Nice bite marks," Stan said plainly, sending a sideways glare at Craig. He took a long drag on the cigarette, breathing out slowly. It was positively miraculous. If he made it out alive, he swore he would smoke through a pack and then drink a whole bottle of Jack Daniels. Oh, and go through taco bell and order everything on the menu, and possibly KFC too.

"Thank you," He said a little too happily, and then coughed and added, "I mean, thanks. I really miss cigarettes..." He swore to himself in his mind that he would burn this one to the very tip.

"Are you okay?" He asked finally, feeling guilty enough to bring it up. "I was really cruel to you, I'm sorry." Even if Craig was cruel to him, he knew he wouldn't get an apology for it. And Craig was just being so nice. He felt like it was appropriate. "I shouldn't have led you on like that. It's not funny."

**"Don't mention it. Seriously," he says, not wanting to acknowledge the fact that he just gave away one of his last cigarettes. He really doesn't know what he's going to do when they run out. **

**"Ha, you **_**just**_** figured out that it wasn't funny?" he asks. Really, what kind of sick asshole would think it **_**was**_**. But he shakes his head dismissively anyways. "I'm just fine; I got off, didn't I? But I don't know if you'll be okay. I might be too worn out right now to actually be pissed about it, but later on you will definitely be feeling my wrath," he says. He's actually not sure if it's an empty threat or not, and his voice reflects that in its lack of malice. He knows he **_**should**_** probably kick Stan's ass, maybe break an arm even, but he doesn't know if he will. He's kind of considering forgetting everything that's happened during this time, just let it go. If he doesn't carry any of its baggage, then he won't have to think about it ever again.**

"Well I knew it wasn't funny. But you made it a game." Stan stated emptily, not wanting to make it sound like he was hurt or upset over it at all. At Craig's threat, he looked at him again, the cigarette burning in his hand.

"After this, if we ever go near each other, it's going to end up the same way it did here. I don't want to see your face after this."

It was sincere enough, and Stan really didn't want to admit he had developed **feelings**. But after seeing Craig nurse him to health, and what's more - sleep by his side like a loyal dog - it was too damn...what was the word? Cute? It made him want to throw up. But he really didn't have anything to throw up in him.

**Craig thinks '**_**You're**_** the one who made it a game,' but doesn't say it out loud because he doesn't really have time before Stan's next comment. He thinks about it for a second, eyebrows slowly furrowing together in misunderstanding. Eventually he stops and says, "Um," he turns to give Stan a cautious look. "What do you mean?" **

**Does Stan mean what he thinks he means? But how. They haven't done anything but fight this entire time. Sure, they had a bit of a sexual brush, but that was supposedly just in spite of each other, right? **_**Right**_**?**

"I mean it's not a good idea for us to ever be in the same space, ever again. I'm going to go back to hating you and pretend this didn't happen." He breathed out a stream of smoke as he talked, and then looked away from Craig. Why elaborate? It didn't mean anything. So what if he thought it was extremely nice what he did. He probably did it to cover his own ass, the asshole. And the sharing cigarettes? He just didn't want him to bitch because of no cigarettes. The taking aftershave from him? Didn't want Stan to die on his watch, because he might get sued by the Marsh family. There were all these technicalities that made it stupid how he was feeling right now. Goddamn these emotions.

Somehow though he thought Craig might actually care, but he didn't want to say it. No, if that was what it was, he would rather brush it under a rock and then have a comet hit the rock and blow it into a thousand pieces.

**That doesn't answer Craig's question at all, and he has to consider whether or not he actually want to know the answer or if he wants to let it go. He knows it'll eat at him forever unless he knows, so he has to ask. "No, I meant... You mean the fighting, right? You don't want to see me because you're angry, right?" He can feel his stomach clench with the potential answer. Stan can't actually **_**like**_** Craig, right? That's completely against all logic. "You're not... actually **_**attracted**_** to me, are you?" he asks slowly, trying not to sound accusatory. The last thing he needs right now is to offend Stan and start another goddamn fight. But... he has to know.**

"Attracted to you?" Stan's voice was a little higher for a minute, but then he shifted uncomfortably and said in his normal voice, "God, no. What the hell. Why would you even ask that? This is all situational. But it helps to know you're not a total douche, I think I've figured out why Kenny likes you."

He took in another drag, trying to ignore Craig's interrogation. Why did he care, anyways? How stupid, suggesting Stan might like him after three days being trapped. If anything, it was like a weird, joint Stockholm attraction - they were forced to like each other instead of their captors, since there were no captors.

"Just, don't."

**Somehow, he **_**knows**_** Stan is lying. Maybe it's the tone in his voice. Maybe it's the look on his face. Craig doesn't know, but he knows he's being bullshitted. Craig feels that drop in his stomach again, and he doesn't know what it is. It's probably the hunger, because there's no way it's Craig's nerves. **

**He feels the sudden impulse to lean over and kiss him, but he instantly shakes the thought away. Why would he do that? He still hates Stan. There's absolutely no reason to kiss Stan; he's right, it's all situational. That's all this is. **

**It catches Craig off guard when Stan says 'don't' because Craig has the sudden irrational fear that Stan had heard his thoughts. He tells himself that it isn't possible and tries to shake the uneasy feeling that is quickly settling into his system. "Don't, uh, what?" he asks, wondering what Stan meant if he couldn't read Craig's thoughts.**

"Don't think that I like you. I don't. You're a prick. I'm just saying..." He paused, wondering why he was putting Craig down. Damn, he really was an asshole to Craig. But Craig was an asshole back, so it was necessary.

"Look, you just did all that caring stuff to save your own ass. And for some reason I think it might be because you care, but no, it's just to save yourself." He was telling Craig this as a statement, not asking him as a question. As if he could tell him how he was reacting.

"For some reason it just makes me care about you a little bit, that's all. It's nothing. Stop looking at me."

**Craig furrows his brows at Stan's little ramblings, continuing to look at him. "Don't tell me what to do, I can fucking look wherever I want to," he says becoming the tiniest bit hostile because of his confusion. He **_**did**_** do those things out of self-protection. There's no way he did it because he actually likes Stan. He opens his mouth to respond, but finds that he can't do it while looking at him. He looks away, cursing internally that he ended up doing what Stan said anyways. "Yeah, you're right, though. I don't... I did it because I didn't watch to catch Hell if you got hurt." Why couldn't he look at Stan when he said that? It can't be because it's a lie, because it's not. He doesn't care what happens to Stan at all. **

**He takes a pointed drag from his cigarette, trying to distract himself, if only a little. The damn thing is almost gone and he's considering getting out a second.**

"See, it's just situational. Didn't think you cared." It felt kind of weird hearing that Craig did it to save his ass, because everything Stan did - giving him the chips that he found, telling him the time, covering him up with his clean shirts and hanging up Craig's wet pants - and then giving him his- those were all things Stan did because he cared . Maybe not because he liked Craig in that way, but certainly because he cared about him on some level. Whatever that level was.

Looking at his burning cigarette, he realized soon he would be out, and the treat of having a cigarette would be gone. He really doubted Craig would share again.

Well, he wasn't about to tell him anymore, anyways. He wouldn't inform him what he did was out of caring for him - as far as Stan was concerned, he was just saving his own ass too.

**Craig lets out a somewhat forced laugh, trying to dissolve the feeling in his stomach. "Yeah, but I think punching you in the face was a little counter-productive in the 'you not getting hurt' sense," he says, trying to think of anything but the thoughts he's thinking. There's absolutely no way Craig anything less than hates Stan. They hate each other. **

**His cigarette burns up to the filter and he curses out loud, not having nearly enough nicotine in his system. He puts it out and tosses it on the floor. He tries hard to resist getting another one out, but he knows it'll only be a matter of minutes before he does anyway.**

"Probably was," Stan simply stated, still thinking about Craig's previous comments. He really didn't want to think about it, but he was starting to feel uneasy again. He bent down to put the cigarette out on the floor, and then got up and took the t-shirt that he used to cover himself with him. Walking over to the other end of the bench, he sat down and placed the t-shirt back over himself.

**Craig keeps himself from frowning and doesn't look over to where Stan had moved to. Why did he move...? Wait, why does he care? He doesn't. **

**He fidgets with his fingers and his foot starts to bounce on the ground. Why does he feel so awkward? And anxious? There's no reason to be anxious, nothing to be waiting for. He bites on the inside of his cheek, not knowing why he feels so on edge. What is this uneasiness?**

"How many cigarettes do you have left?" Stan asked, knowing the likelihood of getting another cigarette is nil. But he couldn't keep himself from trying, even though he had moved away from Craig. He glanced over, noticing Craig's leg was bouncing slightly. What the hell? Was he nervous about something? With a frown he leaned over with his elbows on the top of his knees and put his chin on top of his folded hands.

**Craig isn't really expecting Stan to speak, though he's not sure why considering they were sort of conversing, so when he does it catches him off guard for a second. Is he really that wrapped up in his own thoughts? "Ugh, dude, I only have two," he says, knowing this was going to come up again eventually. He thinks about it for a second, because he wants another one, too, but then they'd be gone. He considers the possibility of sharing one with Stan, but he doesn't know how well that offer will go over, or even if he wants to offer. **

**He eventually gives in, not wanting to have to think about it anymore. Really, it shouldn't be this hard. "We could split one though," he says, sparing Stan the need to even ask since he already knows it's coming.**

Realizing Craig was serious, Stan got up again and walked over towards where he was previously sitting. He took a seat and then looked at Craig with a glance that indicated he was going to join him, regardless if they had to share spit to savor the cigarettes longer.

"Well, are you going to light it?"

**Craig watches as Stan gets back up and sits next to him again. Okay, he doesn't know how much he likes Stan being back, but he deals with it. He fishes his second-to-last cigarette out of his pocket. He lights it and takes the first drag before passing it off to Stan. He exhales slowly, watching the smoke filter into the room. The ceiling is actually a bit cloudy from the poor ventilation and Craig's several smokes. He looks back over at Stan as he waits for him to pass it back. He shares cigarettes all the time, not always being able to afford his own, but somehow this unnerves him. It's just sharing a cigarette, though. After all, they've done worse this weekend.**

Taking the cigarette out of Craig's hand, he took a long drag, but surprisingly didn't breath out. Instead, he turned to Craig and moved in as if he were going to kiss him, and instead blew a stream of smoke towards his face.

Then he held out the cigarette for him to take back, as if he hadn't done anything at all. He leaned back to sitting in his spot, staring off towards the lockers.

**Craig stares for a second. Did Stan just... shotgun him? Granted, Craig isn't new to shotgunning, he just never expected it from Stan. It makes his stomach do a tiny flip, thinking that Stan might have intended for a different kind of shotgun, but chickened out at the last second. He takes the cigarette back but hesitates a second before putting it back in his mouth. **

**This is probably a really, really bad idea, but... **

**Craig inhales off the cigarette again and holds it in. He reaches over, a bit cautiously, and takes Stan's chin between his fingers. He turns Stan toward himself and leans forward, his stomach doing another flip. Oh god oh god oh god... what is he doing? He presses his lips against Stan's, coaxing Stan's open with his own. He slowly pushes out the smoke, letting Stan take it in. When his lungs are empty, he pulls back, maintaining slightly less than awkward eye contact. He clears his throat, like it will dismiss what he just did or something, and holds the cigarette back out for Stan to take.**

Stan wasn't really paying attention as Craig took in his own drag off of the cigarette, and when he felt his head being guided by Craig's hand on his chin, he arched a single eyebrow as the other connected their lips. Amazingly, Stan didn't object - he wasn't new to shotgunning, but he didn't really shotgun with a lot of people considering most of his best friends ever hated his bad habit of smoking.

It was actually very pleasurable, connecting mouths with another smoker. He could feel the smoke passing to him, and the taste of nicotine on Craig's lips. Moving away, he blew out the smoke slowly and then reached up to pluck the cigarette out of Craig's fingers casually, as if nothing ever happened. He took in a normal drag, and then blew out the smoke and held out the cigarette again.

**Craig takes the cigarette out of Stan's hand. Okay, he's confused. Stan didn't even react to that; so was it a good thing or a bad thing? And then Stan just hit it like nothing even happened. Okay, that actually kind of pisses Craig off. If Craig is going to put forth the energy to do something like shotgun you, you have the decency to show you liked it or hated it, you don't just ignore it. Well then, Craig will just have to try harder this time, won't he? In the back of his mind, he's disturbed by the fact that he wants Stan to react, but that's not important right now. All Craig wants is to not have his efforts blown off. **

**He takes another drag, and this time takes Stan by the back of his head. He smashes their mouths together and gets a little more forceful. He uses his tongue to help push the smoke out of his own mouth and into Stan's. He lets it stay in Stan's mouth, grazing it against the backs of Stan's teeth and prodding at Stan's own tongue. Some of the smoke escapes their connection, but Craig, to his dismay, doesn't care. He doesn't care about the smoke.**

Stan wasn't expecting an encore, and when he got it, he actually reacted this time with wide eyes and a slight jump when Craig grabs his head. When he finds that they, once again, have connected mouths - and the smoke transfer begins - Stan returned the kiss half-heartedly. As much as he was trying not to react, Craig's tongue was ramming into his and he couldn't leave it alone - giving it momentary acknowledgement as he returned a slightly intricate dance. Then he pulled away to breath, letting the smoke out of his mouth as he stared off towards the lockers again. Without a response, he held out his hand, expecting Craig to hand him the cigarette.

**Craig is somewhat pleased when Stan responds physically, but when Stan pulls away silently again, merely holding out his hand, Craig actually allows himself to frown. The fuck is Stan's problem? He doesn't hand the cigarette over, and instead takes another drag. He pulls Stan against him again, even going to far as to scoot closer. He lets his hand rest on the back of Stan's neck, tilting his head up toward Craig a bit, as he goes for yet another shotgun. He's goddamned determined to get Stan to say something. Or hit him. Or something. It's not normal to not say anything when someone is trying to make out with you. No - Craig is shotgunning him, not trying to make out with him. **

**Despite that thought, he presses his tongue back into Stan's mouth, letting the smoke flow slowly so as to keep him there longer. He works his tongue, trying to coax any reaction out of the slightly shorter boy. Their bodies are close now, since Craig scooted closer, and he can almost feel the heat from Stan's body.**

Noticing a pattern forming, Stan glanced over at Craig moving closer to him. Considering Craig had his pants, and he had merely underwear covered with a t-shirt draped over his lap, he was growing a bit nervous. He almost seemed shy as Craig pulled him up against him, and he felt his heart pumping faster as Craig directed his chin upwards and placed a hand against his neck. He didn't object to the connection as he closed his eyes, although this time he pressed his tongue harder against the intruding party. His hand tensed up as he tried to keep himself from moving it, mentally telling himself that if he put a hand on Craig, he'd probably get hit. He wasn't sure if it was a thought based on truth, but he figured maybe it would keep him from doing something else stupid from impaired judgment.

**Craig knows that by now the smoke is no longer in either of them, but he doesn't want to stop. **_**Dear god**_**, he doesn't want to stop, and he doesn't even care that it's Stan he's excited for. **

**He blindly tries to stub out what's left of the cigarette and lets it fall from his hand, forgotten. He brings his other hand up now, and puts it on Stan's waist, pulling him just a smidgen closer. He really hopes that he's not the only one enjoying this, because he doesn't want to have to shoot himself later on. He does his best to breathe through his nose, not wanting to break their connected mouths. He pushes his tongue a bit further into Stan's mouth, hoping that it's not going too far. He doesn't know what Stan likes, not that he could, so he just has to guess.**

After flexing his hands several times, trying to keep them away - he couldn't keep himself from it any longer. He reached upwards with both hands past Craig's hoodie and sliding them over his shoulders in order to trace his fingernails along the nape of other's neck. While they dueled with their tongues, Stan pulled himself closer, breathing only through his nose though he felt like he had stopped breathing at all.

**Now that Stan is completely cooperating, Craig doesn't know what to do. This is what he wanted, right? Why did he want this? Why did he want to be this way with Stan? ...How come even though he realizes he should hate it, he still doesn't want to stop? All he'd wanted was for Stan to respond; what does he do now that Stan has? **

**Stan's nails against his skin, even their light trails, make Craig shiver. He **_**really**_** shouldn't like this as much as he does. He wants to pull Stan into his lap, but he doesn't know if that would be taking things too far. Maybe he should just let this progress slowly. Wait - progress? This is only a kiss. **

**He rubs his thumb along the back of Stan's neck, just barely letting it reach into the bottom of Stan's hair line. After a second, though, he slides his hand up, letting Stan's hair weave between his fingers.**

As the kiss continued as if the one who broke it would be punched; Stan's right hand remained on the nape of Craig's neck as the left ran along his collarbone, and then gripped the zipper on Craig's hoodie between his pointer finger and thumb. Pulling the zipper down slowly so it made a drawn out chirp, Stan pressed himself into the kiss feverishly as he felt Craig's thumb coax the back of his neck and then his fingers knitting into his hair.

He couldn't figure out why he wanted to continue, but he was giving in. It was too much work to push Craig off, and obviously they couldn't get away from each other. The school would probably suspect, why not give them something to wonder about? Those bastards.

**The sound of Craig's zipper - dear fucking god - hits Craig like a ton of bricks. Okay, now he has to get Stan into his lap. He used the hand on Stan's waist as leverage and pulls him up, over to himself, hoping that Stan will get the hint and moves his legs accordingly. Preferably around Craig's hi- no he doesn't have a preference. **_**Why is he still letting this happen?**_

**He makes the hand in Stan's hair into a fist, gripping into the dark locks, and he pulls back. It disconnects their mouths and cranes Stan's head back so Craig can go for his throat again. He licks along the front of it and nips at it lightly.**

He barely had time to finish unzipping Craig's jacket - which at first had been a slow, droning hum and then he pulled it sharply when Craig's body language changed. Moving himself with Craig's silent command, he half-reluctantly found he was now occupying Craig's lap. With his legs on either side of Craig, he wrapped them around Craig's hips; where else would he put them, it only made sense. He let out a sharp moan as Craig pulled back on his hair roughly - exposing his neck. He felt incredibly vulnerable as the other nipped at the delicate skin there.

He pressed his nails into the back of Craig's skull, moving his fingers slowly upwards. Then he slowly slid his left palm against Craig's chest, and then snaked his hand around to Craig's back as he gripped Craig's hair forcefully to return the treatment he was giving him. With his lips, he lingered around the bite marks he made earlier in the weekend, and then started to press his teeth into the fleshy part of Craig's right shoulder.

**Craig has to resist a shudder when he feels Stan's legs actually wrap around his waist. And when Stan lets out that moan, Craig fucking **_**feels**_** it. As soon as he lets his fingers fall from Stan's hair, Stan returns the same gesture. **

**Craig shuts his eyes tight and tries not to groan when Stan tugs on his hair. The feeling shoots a chill down his spine and lands right where it counts. He bites onto his lip in anticipation when he feels Stan's lips grazing along his old bite. When Stan actually sinks his teeth into his shoulder, he doesn't bother holding in his groan. It's strained and full of need, and he accompanies it with a simple, "Fuck." His back arches a bit and his breathing starts coming a little harder, in short pants.**

Tasting the saltiness of Craig's skin on his tongue, he pulled away and trailed his tongue along Craig's neck. For a moment, he moved his mouth away from contact with Craig's skin as he brought his left hand forwards again and went for the button on the pants Craig was wearing - well, his own pants. He never thought he'd be taking his pants off someone else, but this whole situation had pretty much gone to hell.

He contemplated stopping, because he suddenly thought of Wendy, and Kenny. Oddly enough, it seemed like a blip in his memory - his brain was so starved that it no longer thought in details, just glimpses of flashing images. Struggling internally with his desire to continue, and his normally strongly upheld morals; Stan stopped altogether as his fingers lingered on Craig's waistline, pressed against the area below his naval.

**Craig feels Stan's hand go for his pants, and he can't help remembering just a few hours ago when Stan ditched him at this point. He doesn't know what he'll do if Stan ditches him for the third time; he might just have to give up on anything sexual forever. **

**Stan stops, and Craig can feel the irritation bubble up inside him. "Are you really going to fucking stop again?" he asks. He opens his eyes to give Stan a pissy look, but then he sees the kind of blank look on Stan's face and it makes him almost feel bad for getting angry. "Dude, are you okay?" he asks, despise himself. All he wants right now is for Stan to touch him, to feel Stan's fingers wrap around him, to feel their tongues sliding together. But he waits for Stan to say something. He brings his arms up to wrap his them loosely around Stan's middle, trying to be whatever little comfort he can in this potentially awkward moment. Stan's hand is stopped, right on his button, and it's making Craig a little antsy to get the show on the road already.**

Lost in a jumbled train of thought, Stan stayed frozen even after Craig accused him of stopping. He really was trying to find what he had been thinking about - Wendy? Well, Wendy was being a bitch and not talking to him. And Kenny suggested an orgy anyways...how upset would he really be. Hell, they were trapped in a room for three days, with no entertainment and no food. He couldn't remember what day it was - the last time he checked it was Sunday, but he wasn't sure if the time had passed or if it was just hanging there taunting them with eternity.

After a good minute, he started focusing again on where he was physically - Craig's lap, his hand almost down the other teen's pants. He heard just the end of Craig's comment - are you okay - and he blinked twice before he shrugged and said, "I'm fine...just zoned out there."

He started to pull down Craig's pant zipper, vaguely wondering why the other was asking him if he was okay. Did he really drift off a long time there?

**Even as Stan unzips his pants, he can't help but feel like there's still something wrong. As much as he wants to do this right now, he wouldn't feel right if Stan wasn't at least acting normal. "Are you sure?" he asks, voice quiet with the strain to actually speak. **_**Stan's hand is**_**...**

Was he really going to test him now? "We haven't eaten anything all fucking day, I'm fine." Stan said as he glared at Craig, his hand sneaking down Craig's happy trail while their eyes remain locked. That was when his hand froze, just inches from actually making contact, because Stan was staring at Craig with a look of disbelief.

"You're going to walk off aren't you. This is just to make me feel bad for earlier."

**Craig glares at Stan, not believing that Stan is actually accusing him of trying to leave. "No, I'm not a dick," he says. "You fucking zoned out and I was making sure you were okay. I'm not going to fucking take advantage of you," he pauses his words to take Stan's wrist in his hand. "But since you say you're fine..." He moves Stan's hand for him, moving his own hand over Stan's and making his fingers grip around Craig's hardened dick. "Finish what you fucking started."**

Stan wasn't expecting Craig to be forceful, and when he shoved his hand down the rest of the way Stan's mouth dropped slightly, and he bit his lower lip as he tried to not to freak out. He was pretty sure, on any other day where he wasn't starving and hadn't already tossed every speck of food up, he would probably be wrenching right now. His stomach was literally doing flipflops, but he couldn't actually do anything but sit there with one hand around Craig's cock.

Averting his eyes as he proceeded to do the action which he did pretty much all the time, even when he was on again with Wendy - he rubbed his hand back and forth steadily, gaining speed as he tried not to look at Craig. He pretty much thought he was decent at it, considering how many times Wendy had a headache and he had to remedy his own feelings. He obstinately kept his gaze averted, not looking at Craig.

**When Stan actually starts to move his hand, Craig lets go. Even though he's the one that put Stan's hand there, he can't actually fathom that it's happening. Of all the shit that's gone down, now Stan is actually giving him a handjob. **_**Stan Marsh**_**. Craig sighs, his muscles tensing all at once. He leans forward, bending his back so as not to throw Stan off balance, and reaches for Stan's lips with his own. When they connect, he reaches his own hand down, not hesitating to stick it in Stan's boxers. Hey, it's only fair if Craig is getting relief that Stan should too. He wraps his hand around Stan's hard on and begins to pump, doing his best to match Stan's tempo.**

His face was turning red from what he was doing, simply because he was embarrassed. He tried to not like it, but the minute Craig moved in to give him a kiss - and what's more, then to move his hand down to Stan's underwear - he felt his heart racing like it was going to jump through his chest. With a disgruntled gasp, he tried closing his eyes as he felt his body react. His legs tightened around Craig's hips, his toes curling behind the other's back.

**Craig breaks from the kiss and tenses when Stan tightens his legs around him. "Fuck," he says, trying to find the words he needs to say. He tightens his hand on Stan just a bit, continuing to pump it up and down. "I... do you want...?" he can't form the sentences properly; all he can do is think about Stan's legs being wrapped around his waist and how badly he wants something more than a handjob. He bites his lip, Stan's own hand not helping him be able to think any clearer. "Fuck," he says again, frustrated that he can't even speak.**

Stan's hand loosened when he realized Craig was trying to say something. What the hell, what kind of idiot speaks during something like this? When he said 'do you want', Stan couldn't think of any sentence connectors besides 'stop', so he started to move his hand as he said, "You - you want me to stop?" He managed to utter it as he tensed up, trying to think clearly. He was really hoping they didn't die of heart attacks caused by screwing around when starving, he wasn't sure if that was possible but it seemed like something shitty that might happen to him.

**Craig has to focus to hear Stan's response. Then he quickly says, "Fuck, no, for the love of Hell, don't fucking stop, dumbass," he manages. He's not sure why he's this worked up over something as simple as a handjob; that normally doesn't happen. Normally Craig can keep his cool longer than this. His voice refuses to cooperate for a couple more seconds before he's finally able to ask, "Do you... want more?"**

He really wasn't playing dumb, he couldn't fathom why Craig was all but yelling at him and he went to put his hand back where it was before. Confused, and aroused, and slightly worried because he wondered what more entailed he said, "...like a blow job?"

**Craig can't even understand why Stan isn't getting it. "Ugh, no," he says. He can't figure out why it's so hard for him to talk. Everything aches, for a multitude of reasons, and right now it's with need. "Like..." he tries to start again. He eventually gets so distraught that it just comes out, all in one rush, "Do you want me to fuck you?" **

**He sighs a breath of relief at finally being able to get across his point, but then he realizes that Stan might say no, and he's right back to frustrated. It's hard to be mad, though, when someone is touching his dick.**

At first Stan can't believe Craig suggested something so idiotic. Why would he want to lose his virginity on - then again, Craig doesn't know Stan's a virgin, and he wasn't about to tell him that with his hand down Craig's - well, his pants, hand on Craig's cock. Narrowing his eyes and looking away he said, "Uh, I guess, I don't know." It wasn't an appropriate response, and Stan was already feeling idiotic for talking when they had their hands down on each other. Somehow, it reminded him of the taboo of men talking in the bathroom. You just didn't.

**"You don't know," Craig says, more than asks. He can't believe Stan is being this difficult when they're already touching each other anyways. He's getting frustrated enough at this point where he's starting to be able to speak again; his irritation winning over his desire. Or maybe it's fueling it. "Well you better fucking figure it out quickly because if it's a yes, I have a condom in my goddamn wallet and I'm going to go get it," he says. He stops his hand from moving on Stan, stops touching him at all, hoping to give him a little incentive to think faster. He considers just flipping them over so instead of sitting up, he'd be laying over Stan, and pinning him down since he apparently has a thing for restraint. But no, that would take too much effort right now. If Stan evades his question again, he'll do it though. He kind of feels like doing it anyway, remembering how it felt to have Stan pressed up against that wall.**

"Uh...How about..." Stan responded, though he was slightly pissed that he had to say no so he didn't finish the sentence. He really thought he had a chance with Wendy again - even if she was ignoring him - but he would be devastated if it wasn't lost with her. Then again, was she a virgin? Did she give a crap? What if he cared and she didn't and he'd just think about it later? Then again, it wasn't like it was Kenny, it was Craig - the biggest douche in the universe. And, he was slightly curious, and it wasn't like Craig could really talk about what went down in the locker room. He was almost positive neither of them would ever speak of this again. Purely situational.

With his thinking, he averted his eyes and just didn't respond. He really couldn't decide if it was worth it to say yes, or if it was a big enough deal to say no.

**Craig sighs and takes Stan by the shoulders. He turns and pushes Stan back, easing him onto his back. He would have liked to drop him, but he's pretty sure that would have killed Stan's mood. He flips himself as well and gets himself on top of Stan. It's pretty much all one movement, just a flip, and then he's straddling Stan's hips. He snatches up Stan's hands and pins them together above Stan's head, pushing them against the brown wood. He leans down, close to Stan's face, and glares him in the eye for a second. Why is he being so difficult? Craig really doesn't know. **

**He leans the rest of the way down, less than an inch, and forces his tongue right into Stan's mouth, not bothering with a close-mouthed kiss first. No, he doesn't have time for that; if he's going to have Stan, he's going to have him **_**now**_**. After a good fifteen seconds or so, he pulls back and looks Stan in the eye again. He wishes he felt strong enough to hold both Stan's wrists with one hand, but he's still weak from the starvation, so he can't, otherwise he'd use one of his hands to touch Stan. "Well?" he asks, trying to keep his voice from sounding too desperate, but he kind of is, so he's not sure if he hides it well.**

Shaken from his thinking, Stan stared at Craig with an eyebrow raised again, giving him a quizzical look. Why was he moving him? When he was put down on his back, he realized that Craig was repositioning him so he could...well, mount him. He almost said, 'goddamnit' when Craig grabbed his wrists and put his hands where couldn't use them. Although, he couldn't deny that this whole position was very arousing, and he tried to not think of other implications - well, until Craig forced his tongue into his mouth.

Casting a sideways glance so he didn't have to look Craig in the eyes, he said, "Okay, fine." It was the most passive agreement to have sexual relations with him, but he really didn't want to deal with a pissed off horny Craig. He already had enough of that these past few days.

**Craig nearly jumps up at Stan's final acceptance of his offer. "Fucking awesome," he says, and lowers his head again for another quick, heated kiss before he releases Stan. "I'll be right back; don't fucking move," he says, voice low. It's not quite a command, more of a hope, but he tries to make it sound less hopeful. **

**He rises from the bench and makes his way into the bathroom. He near fumbles with this pants, trying to get his wallet out of the damp pocket. Once he has what he needs, he goes back to Stan, replacing himself over the other teen like he hadn't ever even left, only this time with a little foil packet in one of his hands.**

When Craig left, Stan stayed on the bench without moving, looking to the side wondering what he'd tell Wendy. ...Would he tell Wendy? Probably not - it wasn't like he was losing the virginity that she could do anything about. It was sort of different. Wasn't it?

As he returned and climbed back on top of Stan, he glanced at Craig and then the package in his hand. "...so who's wearing that?"

**Craig resist the urge to snark back the obvious answer, because **_**really**_**, has Stan seen himself this whole time? Even **_**Wendy**_** probably tops this kid. Instead, he tries to keep his voice even, stay patient. "Well I was thinking it would be me," he says, not really expecting Stan to object. He doesn't think Stan has the balls to do something like request to top, so he's not worried about it. To fill the space, because he needs to be doing **_**something**_**, he leans his head down again. He leaves a series of small bites along Stan's jaw and down the front of his throat, making sure not to actually bite too hard because he realizes that not everyone likes that quite as much as he does.**

Stan was actually going to try and convince Craig that he didn't want to be on bottom, but then again, he didn't really want to be anywhere remotely near Craig's …yeah. So he decided to let it slide, because he really didn't want to start an argument. He was pretty sure if he denied Craig a third time, the other might strangle him.

He decided to move his arms and put his hands on the back of Craig's neck, running his nails against the others hair as he bit into his neck. There was a moment where he thought of telling Craig that biting up his neck was painful and he was a dick for doing it, but instead of actually words escaping from his throat, it came out as groan.

**"So can I like, get on with this?" he asks, feeling Stan's nails in his skin again. Why does Craig get the feeling that he's going to have claw marks on his back by the time this if over? ...the thought bothers him less than it should. He brings his head up to look Stan in the eye, waiting for a response. He fidgets with the foil package in between his fingers, just itching to rip it open.**

Knowing fully well that this was not the moment to joke around, Stan looked Craig directly in the eyes and said, "No, I just want you to sit on top of me bitching about wanting to do it." It was obviously sarcasm, and he trailed his hands from Craig's neck to his shoulders.

"Why don't you ask another five times."

**Craig stares for just a second before a smirk breaks out on his face. Look at that; Stan might have balls after all. "Well I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to do it anyway," he says, humor leaking into his sexual strain. He looks around, knowing that the bottle of lotion he'd used earlier should be around there somewhere. He spots it and, thankfully, it's just on the floor next to the bench. He grabs it and brings it up onto the bench. He hooks his fingers in the waist band of Stan's briefs and begins to scoot down Stan's legs, bringing Stan's underwear down with him. When they're off, he scoots himself back up, but this time maneuvering himself to be between Stan's legs, rather than straddling him. He squirts a good amount of lotion into his hand and gives Stan another look, not being able to help but think Stan is going to back out again. Though he **_**really**_** fucking hopes he doesn't; not at this point.**

At first, Stan just thought maybe Craig was confused. What was he doing? He didn't even have his pants off. Since Stan was completely ignorant of what actually went on with something like this, he propped himself up slightly and then said with a slight nervousness in his voice,

"...uh..what are you doing."

**Craig gives Stan kind of a funny look when he asks what he's doing. How does he not know? But he tells Stan anyways, "Dude, I need to, uh... prepare you and stuff. Something tells me you don't get laid that often and you're going to need it." He spreads the lotion over his fingers, making sure they get coated well enough. He lifts Stan's hips a bit with the hand that still holds the condom and moves his slickened hand underneath him. He presses his first finger, the middle one, to be ironic, against Stan's entrance, but hesitates before actually pushing it inside. Is he really about to do this with Stan Marsh...?**

Stan was abnormally quiet as Craig explained, wondering if it was worse to have Craig's fingers up his ass then his dick. Perhaps he hadn't fully thought this through, with starving and all. The whole thing seemed insane, although really exciting on some level, he really didn't expect Craig to move his slippery hand to his back and keep it there like he was waiting for something. And as curious as he was, he started feeling sick to his stomach again, sure this was going to lead to dry wretching in the bathroom.

"I'm out. Get off." He said suddenly, trying to move away from Craig awkwardly, using his arms to push himself back.

**Craig's eyes widen the slightest bit as he looks down at Stan, trying to get away from him. He moves quickly, catching Stan and pushing him back down. He drops the condom in his haste, trying to catch at least one of Stan's hands without the use of his lotioned hand. He moves in close to Stan's face, not sure if he's angry or just in complete disbelief. "You're fucking kidding me, right?" he asks. No. Fuck no; Stan is not leaving him **_**again**_**.**

"No, I'm not. Get off." Stan said as he tried pulling away again, even though Craig had pulled him back. "Just get off." He wanted to say he was going to be sick, but it was pretty evident if he did get sick, he wouldn't have anything to throw up. Panicking, he looked away from Craig as if it would show he really, really didn't want to do anything with him, when in reality he was just having second thoughts. Craig wasn't going to continue, right? Well, Stan did give him consent earlier...he debated whether he would tell the other a lie like he had to pee, or throw up; but his thinking was taking far too long and he didn't add anything after that.

**Craig holds him down for a couple more seconds before giving up. He sighs heavily and backs off, slumping into a sitting position about a foot away from where he left Stan laying. He feels like saying 'you're a dick' or 'you pride yourself on being a cock tease, don't you?' or something along those lines, but he doesn't. He's just kind of empty now, having been denied sex three times now. Maybe he really **_**should**_** just give up on it forever. He closes his eyes and refuses to admit to himself that he's pouting. Sulking is more the right word for it, because this fucking sucks.**

Stan moved to pull up his boxers, feeling slightly violated as he moved to the furthest point of the bench away from Craig. Looking at the floor, he wondered if he should go take another long shower. Possibly with boiling hot water.

Glancing over at Craig, he noted how Craig's eyes were closed, and he vaguely looked as if he were pouting. Did it really depress him that Stan didn't want to go that far? He felt almost compelled to say, okay, fine, let's do it, but he couldn't bring himself to say it. Now he felt pissed at Craig for actually letting him pull away, like it was all of his fault.

"I'm a virgin," He admitted finally, hunched over on the bench gazing at the floor.

**Craig is pulled from his borderline-depressive thoughts by the sound of Stan's voice. He doesn't say anything at first, the words not processing in his brain right away. But then it hits him and he opens his eyes, looking over at Stan with a slight furrow in his brow. "No shit?" he asks, wondering why Stan didn't bring it up earlier. Now Craig just feels all kinds of gross on every level. "Dude, no way. Why didn't you fucking say something before? There's no way I would have even fucking tried if I'd have known that," he says, starting to feel the realization creep up his spine. He'd just almost **_**taken Stan's virginity**_**. Sex is one thing, but taking someone's virginity? Craig isn't into having that much responsibility. Especially not with Stan Marsh; they'd always have remembered 'that one time Craig deflowered Stan'. The thought makes him shiver, so he pushes it away.**

"I don't know. Doesn't seem like a big deal to me." Stan said, although it was hardly the truth. He was actually just really pissed off at several people in his life; Wendy for going on six years off and on and never going all the way, Kyle for not admitting he liked drunken making out sooner, and Kenny for pulling his heart strings. It seemed like actually caring who you did it with the first time was becoming tedious and he really didn't want it hanging over his head anymore.

Although, he had to wonder if Craig would have really avoided him if he had said it earlier. Seemed far too easy.

"So is that it? I'm going to go to the bathroom if we're through."

He knew it sounded like he was breaking up with him, but he really didn't care to choose his words more carefully.

**Craig rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away. "Don't ask me if we're fucking done; you're the one with the overwhelming need to try and kill my boner at every goddamn turn," he mutters, a little loud but not caring if Stan actually hears. Because it's true. Stan starts some kind of bout, and then backs off like Craig is trying to rape him for going along with it. And, okay, Craig started it this time, but still. Stan is just the biggest fucking cock-block ever, and Craig can't help but to think that Stan gets some kind of sick kick out of it.**

Stan really tried to not laugh at the thought of killing Craig's sexual drive every time, but he ended up smiling instead of audibly expressing his amusement. Which was probably just as bad, even though he was turned on at the same time - it just seemed like a funny thing to do, even if it made him feel like a major asshole. What did that make him? A cock tease?

He got up from the bench, feeling a bit like he had been hit by a truck. Walking past Craig he flipped him off as he walked towards the bathroom and turned the corner.

**Craig flips Stan off in return, not watching as he walks away. When he's sure Stan is gone, though, he just flops down onto the bench, completely defeated. He stares up at the ceiling for a second before he brings an arm up to cover his eyes from the light. He feels so out-of-place. He doesn't even feel like touching himself again; his buzz is totally dead. He's not sure what did it; the realization that Stan is actually a virgin or the fact that he'd just been shot down three times by the same guy. Regardless the reason, he just wants to curl up and die right there. What's the point anyway? If the starvation doesn't kill him, the blue balls sure as fuck will. **

**In this moment, he really, **_**really**_** misses Kenny. He'd been missing him this whole time, but now he can't even believe that he'd been about to sleep with Stan. Craig feels like the complete lowest scum of the Earth. Even if Kenny **_**might**_** have been okay with it, Craig still shouldn't have even considered it. Cheating isn't okay, and Craig's pretty sure he just did it. He groans, his body falling limp against the bench with the realization. He cheated on Kenny with Stan. He **_**cheated**_**. **

**Now he **_**really**_** wants to die. Or at least fall asleep and not wake up for a long ass time. **

In the bathroom, Stan cleaned himself up. He really didn't care if Craig had blue balls at the minute - why the hell would it matter if he was a virgin anyways. Was it like a reverse STD? That person is a virgin - oh god, don't hit that. He undressed and took a shower, a rather cold one, and then finally picked up his shirt and dried himself off with it. Sliding back into his boxers, he walked out and grabbed a shirt off the floor nearby Craig and slipped that on. God, if he didn't have MRSA after this, he would think he was invincible.

He really wanted to check the time - but the watch was in his pants, and the pants were on Craig. So instead of looking, he decided to sit down nearby Craig and stare at him, wondering what he was thinking about.

"You okay?" He asked finally, curiosity winning him over. There was a tiny bit of remorse for walking off on Craig, after all - being denied was painful, and something Stan was familiar with. Maybe he was taking out all of his anger with Wendy on denying Craig, he didn't know.

**Craig hears Stan come back and sit on the bench, but he doesn't give it any kind of acknowledgement. When Stan asks if he's okay, he highly considers not answering because seriously, fuck Stan. He eventually finds himself speaking anyways, his body doing it on its own. "No, I'm not," he says, his arm still draped over his eyes. He doesn't want to see the fucking room he's in; he just wants to forget about it. Out of sight, out of mind, right? **

**He doesn't elaborate at first, but it itches on his tongue to be said. Maybe saying it out loud will help him not feel quite as shitty, even if Stan is the only one around to hear it. "I fucking cheated on Kenny," he says, and his heart drops into his stomach. Okay, he was wrong, that made him feel ten times worse. At least if he never said it out loud, he could live in denial forever, but saying it makes denying it kind of hard to do. He shuts up after that.**

At hearing what Craig was actually thinking about, Stan finally realized why he had started thinking about Kenny earlier. Technically, he just messed around with his best friend's boyfriend.

"...aww, fuck." Stan said after a moment, realizing that indeed, though muted, his morals were still there trying to tell him WRONG, DON'T DO, and he had just blatantly ignored them. He tried reasoning with the situation - it really wasn't cheating, they were both disoriented and it wasn't like the room was well ventilated. Maybe it was oxygen deprivation. Maybe it was starvation. There was so much going on right now that was out of their control, so it probably wasn't their fault, right?

"It's only cheating if you can control it," He said finally, but then realized it sounded horribly wrong and suggested that Craig and Stan wanted to jump each other because they were passionately in love. So, attempting to reprieve his earlier comment he added, "We're probably suffering from oxygen deprivation and we're suffering from starvation and possibly dehydration.." It sounded like excuses even to him, because he didn't want to bring up that he actually had developed some sort of strange feelings for Craig in the process and that was what led to the shot gunning, and then the kissing, and then almost to sex.

"Don't beat yourself up over it, Kenny'll understand. We're not going to do anything after we get out of here anyways."

Yeah, Stan. Deny him a fourth time, and this time eternally. That would brighten his spirits for sure.

**He gives up on ignoring the situation and lets his arm fall away from his face. It just hangs off the side of the bench, Craig not having the energy to care anymore. He's so fucking hungry. And so distraught over the whole **_**cheated on his boyfriend**_** thing. **

**"No, it's not okay," he says, frowning and trying not to let himself get angry for no reason. Stan isn't trying to be a dick, even if he's succeeding. "I don't care if there's a possibility that Kenny might be okay with it. I just don't." He thinks for a couple more seconds, and then another realization hits him. "And to make it fucking worse, I cheated on him with **_**you**_**, who I specifically told him to stop messing around with. And what do I do? Try to fuck you, take your virginity even, in the **_**school locker room**_**." **

**At this point he trying really hard to think of a reason to not climb up on the lockers and then jump off. Maybe if he broke a leg or something, he'd feel better about being such a complete shit. He's shitty.**

"Yeah, that's pretty fucked up." Stan agreed apathetically, as if he didn't care. Truthfully, he felt equally as bad as Craig for doing what they did to Kenny. With a sigh, he looked over at Craig, wondering if the other was going to be okay. Maybe they'd both need counseling after this. Just not couples counseling.

"Look, don't worry about it. It's not like we wanted to be locked in the locker room together. I'm not talking about this with anyone, and after we're out of here, everything will go back to the way it was. This changes nothing." It seemed odd he had to state that, as if it wasn't implied. He reached over with his left hand, and put it on Craig's head - nestling his fingers in the other's hair and rubbing his temple gently with his thumb as if to comfort him with the repetitive motion.

"And if you tell Kenny about it, well, I'm going to deny it anyways. You're still a fucker."  
His words didn't seem to fit with his body language, considering he was massaging Craig's head and telling him he was a fucker.

"It's Monday morning or something, I'm sure. In a few hours I'm just going to hate you again."

By stating again, it was implying he currently did not hate Craig.

**Craig almost jumps when he feels Stan put his hand in his hair, completely not expecting to be touched. He wants to swat the hand away, but it's actually offering him the smallest amount of reassurance, so he begrudgingly allows it to happen. He takes in all of Stan's words, just listening without trying to say anything in return. When he realizes that Stan is done talking, he feels like he should have some kind of response. **

**"Yeah..." is all he can really think to say, and it comes out a bit awkwardly. How could he not tell Kenny? Of course he's going to tell Kenny about it. But Stan was right about the rest of it. At the moment... Craig can't bring himself to fully hate Stan. He still hates him, but it's not the same as before. It's hard to explain, and it confuses him a little. But he'd definitely go back to hating Stan after this too. **

**He turns his eyes upward, to look at Stan, even if he's partially upside down to do it. He's not sure why he's looking at Stan, considering he doesn't have anything to say, but something about the way Stan is still stroking through his hair tells him that he should.**

Stan glanced downwards at Craig, their eyes meeting for a brief second before Stan leaned back on the lockers and started up at the bad lighting. There was no explanation for what that exchange of stares meant, and Stan really didn't give a shit anymore. He was starting to feel like he was married to Craig, which was very awkward. Just...not something he wanted to experience in this lifetime. Or ever.

Because the quietness brought out the humming of the bad light fixtures and droning of the vents, he realized he hadn't sang in *days*. Usually he shut his door and played his guitar quietly with headphones on, and sang along to various songs. But being that he was stuck in here, no guitar, and with an audience he really didn't want, he hadn't thought about music for the longest time.

So without asking Craig if it was all right, he started humming Black Hole Sun - and then said, " In my eyes, indisposed...in disguise as no one knows, hides the face, lies the snake...and the sun in my disgrace… "

Really, he had a decent voice, if not great - so if Craig had an issue with it, he felt like he would whack him with the hand that was currently massaging the other boy's head.

**They lock eyes for a second, just a second, and Craig instantly looks back down. Whatever that just was, it make Craig feel slightly uncomfortable in his own skin. They'd just had a **_**moment**_**. **

**Then Craig hears Stan start to hum. He has to strain his ears at first, because it's quiet, but he picks up that Stan is humming... is that Soundgarden? And then Stan starts to sing. Craig silently catches a quick breath, having never heard Stan really sing before. It actually isn't all that bad, even if Craig doesn't know why he's singing in the first place. **

**And with Stan still playing with his hair, Craig feels... way too comfortable for his own liking. Why is this so comfortable? He just bites onto the inside of his cheek and closes his eyes, trying to ignore the warm feeling in the room. Just relax.**

He sang quietly, not really caring anymore if Craig had an issue with it. Apparently, he didn't, otherwise he would have said something. For a minute, Stan closed his eyes and imagined guitar hero, which was really stupid to him - because out of all the things he missed, really, video games wasn't the top of the list. It just happened to be where he heard this song the most.

"Black hole sun, won't you come...and wash away the rain, black hole sun, won't you come. Won't you come." He paused, looking at Craig as he moved his hand from the other's head. "Hey, you can use my leg as a pillow if you want to try and get some sleep."

He reached over and grabbed one of the many fallen t-shirts, and draped it over his lap.

**Craig does relax, and he just listens as Stan continues to sing. He's even getting tired because he's finally so relaxed. This is probably the first peaceful moment he's had this whole time. **

**When Stan's hand falls from his hair, he can't help but feel the tiniest pang of sad. He was enjoying that, even if just a little. Then Stan talks, and it takes Craig a second to realize that he's no longer singing and that he actually needs to form a response. "No way, bro. Not moving. Too comfortable," he says, not even forming whole sentences. He's not actually that comfortable, after all he's on a wooden bench, but he's too relaxed to move. He feels like if he moves, it'll shatter his peacefulness. **

**And did he just call Stan bro?**

Staring at Craig with an eyebrow arched, he decided to shrug it off and put his hand back on Craig's head to rub it comfortingly. He really didn't mind Craig declining, it wasn't like he was disappointed at having Craig's head nearer to his crotch..  
He was silent for awhile, thinking of various songs he might want to sing. Really, he was picturing the song list on guitar hero, like he was about to play the game. It was comforting somehow to think of things that were familiar, though. He was really trying to think of lyrics however, he didn't want to start singing something like Nirvana's Heart-Shaped Box, because Craig might think there was hidden meanings in it. But was there anyways?

"Song preference?" He asked after awhile of sitting in the silence.

**Craig feels Stan's hand back in his hair, and his lips twitch but he doesn't smile. He refuses to smile. **

**He thinks about Stan's question for a second, but doesn't really have any idea. There's so much music to choose from... where could he even begin? For whatever reason, the band Creed comes to mind, and he doesn't feel like putting any more effort into it than that. "Know and Creed?" he asks. He doesn't know what song he wants to hear, so he doesn't specify. He figures narrowing it down my band is enough for Stan to go on. After all, he's the one that has to sing in, not Craig, so he should pick it. **

**His neck wants to arch, but he wills it down. He will **_**not**_** nuzzle into Stan's hand. Giving a physical response would be bad. He already doesn't know why Stan's doing it, or why it's continued for this long, so he's not willing to push it anyway. Let good things alone, just let them happen.**

Coincidentally, Creed's One Last Breath was on one of his break-up CDs. It was a really great song to sing when one was angsting, and he remembered banging his hands on the wheel as he bellowed out the chorus in the car alone, waiting at intersections.  
"Yeah, I know one," He said, not specifying which song before he started.

"Please come now, I think I'm falling. I'm holding onto all I think is safe...It seems I found the road to nowhere, and I'm trying to escape. I yelled back when I heard thunder, but I'm down to one last breath - and with it let me say, let me say - hold me now. I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking - maybe six feet, ain't so far down... "

He tried imagining the guitar rift, but instead he just imagined his guitar, which was making him particularly sad. Goddamn, he missed his stuff. It was materialistic, but his guitar was like a part of him.

**Craig just listens as Stan sings for a while, continuing to enjoy his relaxation. He really needs this moment after the weekend he's had. Stan continues to sing, and Craig notices that this time his voice has a tiny bit more feeling behind it. Is Stan sad or something? He almost sounds depressed. He almost wants to ask, but Stan is still singing, and for whatever reason, Craig can't bring himself to interrupt it. So he just lets Stan keep going.**

When Stan reached the chorus, he put a lot more feeling in it then most people would singing the song. Maybe he was imagining Wendy as he remembered the words, maybe it was something else.

"I cried out **heaven save me** , but I'm down to one last breath...and with it let me say, let me say - Hold me now! I'm **six feet** from the edge and I'm thinking - maybe six feet, ain't so far down." He was starting to feel a little depressed, thinking of Wendy. All the feelings he had when he listened to this song were coming back to him and he realized that once he left this locker room, he still wouldn't be with Wendy if she decided it was over. Probably would now, he was always such a huge mess.

"Okay, this is just a depressing song. I've got it on one of my break up CDs in my truck." He admitted, thinking of the line, 'sad eyes follow me'; unaware by admitting that he had more than one break up CD, his relationship with Wendy was always rocky and unpredictable. Not that it wasn't evident to the whole school.

**Craig opens his eyes a bit, not even half way, and just kind of stares at the space in front of him. He's kind of tired... **

**When Stan stops singing and then says that it was too depressing, Craig closes his eyes again. "Don't sing then," he says, letting out a yawn after his words. He could fall asleep like this. Just laying here, exhausted, Stan all but petting his hair. It's nice, and he's too tired to deny it anymore. He's enjoying himself.**

Noticing the yawn, Stan glanced over at Craig, and then pulled away his hand from Craig's head. He waited for a moment before he finally said, "So can I lay on top of you or something? I'm cold. It's too fucking cold in here."

He was still pantless, and tired as hell.

**Stan's question doesn't even surprise Craig at this point. Stan's asked for worse things this weekend. "I don't even care, bro; go for it," he says, his voice reflecting the yawn he's trying to suppress. For emphasis on his acceptance, he holds his arms open and waits for Stan to do the moving. Craig is too damn tired to move at all, and even holding his arms up is a strain. He keeps his eyes closed, not caring enough to watch Stan climb on top of him.**

Getting up and taking the t-shirt with him, he put the t-shirt between Craig's crotch and where his crotch would soon be, and then cuddled up to the other with his head against his chest. There was just enough room on the bench for him to get his balance, and he draped one arm over Craig's shoulder, and the other rested on the edge of the bench. God, it was so much better then freezing to death during his slow starvation.

He didn't say anything though as he rubbed his head gently on Craig's chest, and then shut his eyes.

**When Craig feels Stan settle into his chest, he lets his arms down, and doesn't even hesitate to wrap them around Stan. He doesn't care anymore, he wants to hold something, and Stan is right there, so that's what he's going to do. He sighs, glad to finally be able to get some real sleep. The exhaustion helps, and he barely notices Stan touch his chest before he's out like a light.**

Maybe it was the power of suggestion by Craig's sleeping, but Stan too fell asleep after listening to the other breath in and out slowly.

_Around five in the morning, the cleaning crew arrived. At first, the man said "Que diablos esta pasando aqui..?" He moved the door a little further, realizing all the lockers were open and broken, as well as junk all over the floor. Well, damnit. He didn't make enough to deal with this crap - these crappy teenagers. Then he realized there were two boys cuddled up on the bench, and his mouth dropped open. "9-1-1!" He said as he called to the other cleaning lady, who walked over and said, "What? What's wrong?" When she too saw the boys, she immediately took out her cell phone and dialed the emergency number. _

_The ambulance arrived, and Stan and Craig were taken out to it on stretchers - even if they could walk, it was protocol._


	3. 05 07 2012

05.07.2012

* * *

**Craig's awareness seems to seep in and out of focus. Eventually, he manages to maintain his consciousness and he can hear a slow, steady beeping. What the hell…? He tries to open his eyes, but the lights are too bright, so he shuts them again right away. He slowly works them back open, and all he can see is white.**

**He blinks a few times, trying to figure out where he is. He's in a hospital room. Why is he in a hospital? He looks down at himself; he's in a hospital gown and there's an IV stuck in his arm, along with a few other things that he doesn't care to identify.**

**He looks around, trying to remember why he's here. He looks over - and there's Stan Marsh, laying in the next bed over. Why are they both…?**

**Oh yeah.**

**Now he remembers. They got stuck in that fucking locker room all weekend. He can vaguely remember someone yelling in Spanish or something, and then being picked up off the bench he was laying on. He remembers shouting and flashing lights and a really bumpy car ride. He can't remember anything after that. Maybe the starvation had finally gotten to him and he'd finally passed out - which would explain the IV.**

**He looks back over at Stan, and everything that happened comes flooding back into his memory. It doesn't come back in thoughts, though; it's more like image flashes of moments along the knowledge of what happened, rather than remembering actually doing any of it.**

**He groans, remembering how they'd fallen asleep. Whoever found them probably had a hell of a time trying to figure out what happened. The lockers were all smashed into, there was trash all over the ground, there might have even been blood in some spots from their fight, but Craig never cared to check.**

**And worse than all of that, Stan had fallen asleep in his arms, without any pants. And the unused condom was probably right next to them, along with a whole slue of awkward things that were going to be hard to explain away. Craig was even wearing Stan's fucking pants.**

**There's no way they're going to get anyone to believe that they didn't have sex. **_**No way**_**. Even though it's true.**

**Now he's getting irritated, and he needs to stop thinking about it. He looks back over at Stan and he can't tell if the kid's asleep or not. "You awake?" he asks, and he's surprised to hear his voice come out a bit scratchy. Maybe that was from the dehydration. "Wake up," he says.**

Stan woke up when someone said something, but he still had his eyes closed. Odd, his bed smelled cleaner then usually. He tried rolling on his side, tucking his right arm under himself - but there were wires, and a sharp pain radiated from his right hand. Opening his eyes, he moved his hand to see that there was a needle and tape covering it in his hand. Gross.

Groaning as he looked at his other hand - so many goddamn tubes, what the hell - he finally realized he was in a hospital. Probably Hell's Pass, considering it was the only hospital in South Park. With a frown he tried remembering how he ended up here, and he couldn't recall a damn thing. He did remember being woken up to take something that the nurse called 'anti-nausea pills' around seven, and he had taken it just because he wanted her to go away.

He propped himself up slowly, looking around. That was when he saw Craig. Goddamnit, he was sharing a room with that asshole.

"Fuck off, Tucker." Stan grumbled as he looked at the curtain on one side of the bed. He carefully sat up as far as he could go without upsetting the delicate tubing system, and then grabbed the edge of the curtain and pulled it shut so Craig couldn't look at him.

He was pretty sure he had a urinary catheter inserted, and he was extremely pissed off a that alone. He didn't want to remember what happened in the locker room- and it was coming back to him, which added to his frustration.

**Craig pulls a face, looking away from the curtain - like Stan could see, much less care - and scoffs. He wants to cross his arms, but he thinks that might upset the wires and tubes attached to his arms, so he doesn't.**

"**Whatever, fuck you, too," he mutters, not caring that Stan won't talk to him. It's not like they have anything to talk about.**

**He looks around, now fully awake, and tries to find something that will entertain him in the slightest. Hell's Pass is a terrible hospital, so of course there's nothing. The TV isn't even on so he can't pretend to be interested in that either. He settles for watching the lines on the little screen next to him. He watches his heart, his breathing, his **_**life**_**.**

**He quickly decides that looking at it won't do him any good so he just stares at the wall. He starts to wonder who locked them in the locker room. That can't just happen on accident; **_**someone**_** was behind it.**

Hearing Craig's response, he glared at the closed curtain and then looked around him. The monitor was going - he decided to take off the oxygen clip on his finger, and then reached up and turned off the monitor. He hated looking at his own heart beat. Usually he was in hospitals for someone else - he couldn't remember the last time he was ever the one in the hospital bed.

Recalling what went down in the locker room, he vaguely wondered who found them. He couldn't remember that, but he did remember an awful lot of intimate moments that he shared with Craig. Ew. Just…ew. He would carry a bag of food and water with him everywhere now if his impaired judgment from starvation led to that sort of thing happening.

Glancing at the needle stuck in his arm - some sort of port - he wondered if he could just remove it and walk out. He hated being in hospitals, he didn't want to be here. He wanted to go home.

"Why did you wake me up." He finally said, glaring at nothing in particular.

**Craig finds himself staring at the monitor next to him again. It's kind of freaking him out, but he can't look away. That's his actual pulse. If the the lines on the machine stop moving, that means Craig stopped living. He shakes his head, trying not to think about it, and turns away from it again.**

**Craig hears Stan speak, and doesn't really have a response. Why **_**did**_** he wake Stan up? He doesn't really want to admit that it's because Stan is the only human he's had contact with for the past three days, so he's just used to talking to him. He doesn't need to talk to Stan; it's just a temporary impulse. It'll go away after Craig hangs out with Kenny or Clyde or Token or anyone.**

"**I don't know," he finally says, not really wanting to explain himself. Really, he doesn't like talking to Stan. He remains silent for a long second, before coming up with an excuse for waking him. "So you really don't know who locked up in there? I was thinking about it, and there's no way that was a fucking accident."**

"Who cares." Stan said plainly, not really interested in who put him in there. He'd probably talk about it with Kyle later, and maybe Kyle could figure it out - but strange things happened. Someone probably locked the door, forgot they were in there. He just hoped his parents weren't paying for school damages- it was the school's fault.

"It's done, the school will be blamed, it won't happen again."

He frowned, wondering why he felt kind of sad about that. Nothing about any of that was something he should feel bad for. Ever. It was the worst three nights of his entire existence. A living nightmare.

"Can you not talk."

He was thinking of how they fell asleep cuddling, and it was making him feel bad about treating him horribly. Well, it would wear off. Craig would say something or do something awful, and he'd have a reason to hate him again.

**Craig considers that Stan is right; who cares? It's over now and the school will get blamed for it. Maybe his parents will even sue the school and make a bunch of money. But it still eats at him a little bit. Who would **_**want**_** to lock them in a room together? Everyone knows they fucking hate each other.**

**Rather… everyone thinks they want to fuck each other.**

**Frustrated that everything related to this whole situation comes back to that same topic, he puts it out of mind. Yeah, who cares who locked them in there. Maybe it was just an accident after all.**

**Craig hears Stan ask - actually it sounds more like tell - him not to talk, and he frowns at being told what to do. But he's sick of dealing with Stan by this point, what with all of Stan's bitchy mood swings, so he just agrees and moves on. "I don't want to fucking talk to you anyway; I was just seeing if you were-"**

**He stops himself, realizing that what he was about to say was completely untrue. Or, at least, he's going to tell himself it's untrue. He leaves the abrupt ending to his sentence hang awkwardly in the air and doesn't continue to speak.**

**He glares at the wall.**

Toying with the edge of the blanket, Stan decides he's going to press the call-nurse button. Although at first, he hesitates to see if Craig responds. When he does, he frowns, and then glowers behind the curtain. He's actually being nice to him - and caring - what a major dick.

"Yeah. I'm fine. How are you?" He said curtly as he hit the call nurse button on the bed, and then waited. It'd probably take a half an hour, but he really wanted the catheter out, and he wanted to get something to eat. Crappy food was better than no food - at least he wasn't thirsty though.

And he wanted to call his parents to tell them he needed a new phone, and since he almost died, he should be given a new one as a survival gift. Hey, those existed, right?

**Craig furrows his brows at Stan's response. "I wasn't asking if you're okay; what the fuck do I care," he says, trying to sound like he actually means it. To an extent, he does mean it. But on the other hand, Craig would feel like a dumbass for taking care of Stan if he was just going to die anyway.**

"…**but I'm good, too," he adds, deciding that Stan asked, even if it was sarcasm, so he should still answer. It's not like he has anything to lose by saying he's okay - or anything better to do than fake through a conversation.**

**He picks at the fabric of the hospital gown he's wearing, absently wondering where his clothes are. Half the clothes he was weren't even his, and he really hopes someone grabbed his pants from the bathroom because his wallet and his car keys are still in them.**

"Okay. But I don't really give a crap if you're good or not. That was sarcasm."

Truthfully, he was glad they both survived, because he would have been scarred for life otherwise.

He decided to lay back down in his bed, wincing when he moved the damn port again. You'd think the nurses would come running in when he took off all of the monitors, but they ignored it. A call light was probably flashing somewhere, and he could be dying right now, but that was just the way everything ran in South Park - crappily.

"Going to need fucking therapy after this…" He muttered, wondering if he needed a lawyer too.

"You're not going to tell Kenny are you?"

**Craig just ignores Stan, figuring that anything he would respond with would either cause a fight or be a lie anyway. So why even talk, when he can just sit there and… not talk?**

**He does a pretty good job of staying to his own business, too, until Stan mentions Kenny. Not tel Kenny? "I…" he starts, not really knowing the answer he wants to give. He's not sure what he **_**should**_** do. After a short second, he continues with, "have to tell Kenny." Because he does. He'll feel like all kinds of shit if he doesn't.**

**He stares hard down at the white blanket over his lap. What's going to happen when he tells Kenny? Will Kenny be mad? Hell, **_**Craig's**_** mad; why wouldn't Kenny be? Even though Kenny has every right to do it, Craig really hopes they won't break up because of this. He doesn't want Stan; it was a mistake.**

**He just has to keep telling himself that this comfortable feeling will go away, and it will. As soon as he has contact with another human being, his loathing for Stan will snap right back into place, he's fucking positive.**

Really, he was sort of glad Craig was going to tell Kenny. He didn't even know where to begin with the whole story. But he did feel a little bit of worry in his stomach, thinking that Craig might try to pin the blame on him. It was definitely Craig's fault - or was it? Stan couldn't really draw a line, but he really didn't want to say they both were at fault. Because that was untrue, in his mind.

"I'll tell him too. Just…not in detail." Knowing Kenny, he might ask, which made Stan incredibly uncomfortable. "Just…don't tell Wendy. I really don't want to bring it up until I know where she was going with this ignoring me thing."

Why does Craig know so much about his life? Goddamnit, the bastard.

"And let's never discuss what happened then after that, okay."

_Suddenly, a nurse wheeled in a cart, and she walked over to the side of the hospital bed Craig was in. Pulling out the side table and unfolding it, she put a tray from the cart on the table, and then did the same to Stan's bed after pulling the curtain so far back he wouldn't be able to reach it again. The trays contained a small bottle of water, a jello cup, a potato, a banana, and bread with a package of jelly and a spreading utensil that somewhat resembled what looked like a straw mixed with a knife. _

"_So you're both awake! Okay…" The nurses at Hell's Pass weren't as formal or professional as they should be in a work environment, and for some reason the nurse couldn't stop smiling awkwardly. She walked to the end of Stan's bed and picked up his chart. With a twitch at the corner of her mouth she said, "Okay, you're those kids. Okay. I'll get the doctor, and we're going to have to take the catheters out in a half an hour." _

_As she left, she turned to another nurse and within hearing distance to Stan and Craig, she said: "The gay teen lovers are awake. Get Dr. Doctor." Then they moved down the hall laughing, and vaguely the following could be heard echoing, "I know! A condom on the floor, hahah! And there was cinnamon lotion in there too all over the floor, _ahahah_! Girl, can you believe they were doing it for three days with no food! That shit is like Brokeback Mountain for young adults!" _

Stan stared blankly at the tray of food when he heard the women talking outside the door. Oh. My. _God_.

**At first, Craig is completely horrified. He's actually shocked to the point of being left speechless. But then it strikes him, and he starts to laugh.**

"**Fucking **_**really**_**?" he asks between chuckles. He looks over at Stan with an amused smirk and a quirked brow. "They think I would stoop low enough to be," he uses air quotes, "'lovers' with **_**you**_**? Maybe they should have their heads examined," he says, trying to stop his laughing.**

**Really, it's not that funny, he should be mortified, but all he can do it laugh about it. If he doesn't laugh, he might cry from the humiliation, so he just runs with it.**

**He knew they's have a hard time convincing people they didn't actually fuck, but **_**wow**_**. Even the nurses are giggling about it? Fucking lame.**

**His laughter dies down pretty quickly when realizes that he's going to have to convince Kenny of the same thing. He might have touched Stan, but they definitely didn't have sex. No, Stan made fucking sure of that.**

**No - wait - they wouldn't have done it anyway.**

"Just…shut up." Stan said after a minute of zoning out everything in self-defense, still horrified that someone just laughed in the hall over hearing that he was gay lovers with Craig Tucker. Three days of fucking? They didn't do anything. Stan wouldn't do that to Wendy. Now that he was thinking clearly, obviously he was experiencing retardation during the whole weekend.

How could Craig laugh at something so horrible? He started wondering what other rumors were going around about their three day weekend. Realizing the nurse had laid the chart on the end of his bed instead of the chart holder on the end, he reached over with some difficulty and picked it up. At first, it was all gibberish - and then there was some comments on their condition upon arrival.

"'Love bites on neck' - that's not even a medical description! 'Possible forced entry in re-' Oh my god. No, no, no, that's not right. 'Bruise on face from sexual activity'?" He looked through the rest of the short chart, since Stan really didn't go to the doctor all that much. "Jesus Christ, they're making me out to be like some sort of masochist!"

On seeing he had a stomach pump at six in the morning on the next page, he groaned as he read, 'ingested toxic chemicals, irritation of stomach lining'.

**Craig's laughter picks back up again when Stan starts reading his chart out loud. "They really wrote that shit about you?" he asks, disbelieving. Is Stan just making that shit up to be funny?**

**At the 'possible forced entry,' his laughter falls a tiny bit in self defense. "Hey, I never even got to en-"**

**He stops, realizing he said 'got to,' which implied he's wanted it. Nope, can't have that. He just continues with a different sentence in an attempt to save himself. "In case you didn't know, saying 'I like being restrained' is just a little masochistic, bro," he says, picking his laughter back up.**

**He forces the laughter to stop, though, realizing that he's actually **_**laughing**_**. Why would Craig laugh at anything Stan says? Besides, Craig also realizes a little too late that he called Stan 'bro' again. He really needs to start watching his mouth; he's saying all kinds of things he doesn't mean.**

**Fuck the locker room and it's fucking speak-all effects.**

Stan noticed how odd Craig was acting with the laughing. In fact, he was sure he was doing it to irritate him. Slamming shut his file and slapping it down on the bed, he looked over at Craig with a positively livid glare. What did he mean by 'didn't get to', was he _sad_ about not getting to what he just hinted at? What a dick. Stan looked away to glare off at a wall, and then reached over and literally push-murdered the call nurse button.

"I'm switching goddamn rooms. And I am not your fucking bro," He said hotly, irritated with Craig's assumption that what went on in the locker room was going to continue after the locker room. No. Inwardly he was muddled with feelings. On one hand, he kind of wanted to keep Craig as a friend, because he did have to admit - he was great in an emergency. But considering the circumstances, he was pissed at him for trying so many things while in the locker room.

"Just stop talking to me."

**Despite his discomfort with his own fuck-ups, Craig is starting to notice something. Something's… different. The way Stan is acting. Didn't he say back in the locker room that they 'better never be in the same room again because what happened will repeat itself?' Stan had said it meant nothing, but the slightly strange attitude Stan has proves otherwise.**

**Craig will just have to test it.**

**Not that he cares, or wants it to be true; he's just curious. So he can rip on Stan for it later.**

**He looks over to Stan with a crooked smirk. "Nah, you can't change rooms; you'd miss me too fucking much," he says, disregarding the bro comment. Because Stan is right about that; he's not Craig's bro. "I only talk to you so much because you talk to me first. And when I ignore you, you get all pissy, so, whatever."**

**He watches Stan's face, trying to gauge for reactions.**

Usually he wasn't this tense, but the last thing he wanted was to stay another day joined at the hip with Craig Tucker. So Stan took out his frustration on the call button - he pressed it quickly at first, and then started pressing it harder and harder until he heard a pop and the button fell off.

"…Fuck." Had it even been connected? He started at the red button on the floor, and then looked at the wall without answering Craig. Yeah, he had heard him all right, but he was too pissed to respond.

Rolling his eyes as he finally breathed in and exhaled, he said calmly, "We've already been in the same room for three days. I'm not staying another second in a goddamn room with you."

**Craig lets out a short snigger when Stan's button actually **_**breaks**_**. Is he actually that desperate to to get out of here? Or is he just that desperate to make Craig **_**think**_** he wants to get out of there?**

**He just continues to look at Stan, hoping that Stan will crack under the pressure of it. "You don't have to lie; you'd miss my pointy face," he says, bringing up one of Stan's earlier weak insults. What the Hell kind of insult is that anyway?**

**Maybe the reason Craig is trying to get him to admit to missing him is because he doesn't want Stan to go. They've been alone together for three days now; if Craig were to suddenly be alone for real… No, that's a stupid reason. Stan can go fuck himself, for all Craig cares.**

"Oh yeah. I'd miss your pointy face all right." Stan said with heavy sarcasm, trying to push the trigger left where the button used to be. The nurses were probably laughing wherever they were about them being awake.

"Look, what happened we're not discussing here or any time in the future, I'm denying everything. And it changes nothing. I don't want to be friends with you. I'll put up with you because of Kenny. That's it. So just shut up."

Maybe he could just pull out the catheter. How dangerous was it, anyways? Then he thought of where it was attached - no, he'd rather wait with Craig then risk messing up anything down south.

"**Haha, I'm not even talking about it; you're the one who keeps bringing it up," he says, looking around the room like he's disinterested. "It's not like I enjoyed any of it, so what's there to talk about? Well, okay, I enjoyed punching you in the face; that felt pretty damn good."**

**Craig yawns, despite feeling so awake. He has a feeling that he won't be completely 100% the next few days, and that he'll have a hard time with things. It pisses him off that he might need help doing things because his body is too weak. Maybe he should eat some of the food the nurses brought in.**

**He looks at his tray, wondering how much of it is actual food and how much of it just **_**looks**_** like actual food. This is Hell's Pass, you can never be too cautious. He goes over the food in his head, and then decides that the banana is probably safe to eat. How do you fake a fruit? He picks it up and peels it before taking a bite.**

**His mouth instantly begins to salivate, and when he swallows it's almost like he can **_**feel**_** the empty 'clop' of the food in his gut. But it feels good to finally eat; so he finishes off the banana in no time and then starts into the other food. He's so hungry that he doesn't even care if it's shitty food anymore.**

Stan fumed in silence as he peeled back the top on the carton of jelly. Might as well eat something while the nurses enjoyed themselves. Putting the jelly on the bread, he ignored Craig for a good few minutes as he concentrated all of his attention on the food in front of him.

Chewing the bread slowly, he glanced over at Craig finally. That's when he saw the other eating the banana. Out of all foods, he picks the banana first.

What. A. Dick.

"Fuck you, Craig," Stan said loudly, his mouth still full of food. He was pretty sure Craig did that on purpose.

**Craig consumes most of the food pretty quickly, and he starts to feels a lot better. For about a minute, anyway, then his stomach feels like it's way too full. Like it's not used to having food in it, so it's going to reject. He stifles the desire to empty his stomach. If he lets it out, he doesn't know when he'll be able to eat again.**

**It's quiet for a few minutes, so he figures he'll stop for the time being. At least until Stan makes some other kind of comment, which - yup - there it is; the random, unnecessary insult. How can Craig respond to that to get under Stan's skin the most?**

"**No thanks; you'd probably back out at the fucking last second."**

**Yeah, that should get him riled up, at least a little bit. Craig wants nothing more right now that to make Stan feel as pissed off and uncomfortable as possible, especially if Stan is going to leave him by himself. As much as he hates to think it, when it comes to bad situations, he'd rather be with Stan than by himself. Comfort in numbers, or whatever.**

With a look of death, Stan stared at Craig as if he were contemplating either murder or suicide. He turned his attention back on his food in order to maintain his sanity - it had only been back for about an hour, he couldn't let himself lose it now.

He finished his bread with another bite, and then tried to start on the potato - but it tasted strange, and his stomach was getting a strong unsettled feeling. With a frown, he took a sip of his water and thought about Craig's comment. Yes, he had gotten angry - but it reminded him now of what had actually gone down. God. This was horrible. He was going to hold it over his head forever.

"Like anyone would want to fuck you," Stan commented idly. Then he picked up his banana, and started to peel it.

When it was halfway peeled, he turned towards Craig and flung it with force in the direction of the other's head.

**Craig rolls his eyes at Stan's comment. Is that really the best he can come up with? "Well, I've sure as fuck slept with more people than you have," he says, picking at his piece of bread. He really doesn't like bread that much, not unless he has sliced meat or something on it.**

**He decides he should eat the bread anyway, because it will help absorb the excess acids in his stomach, but before he can even jelly it, a half open banana hits him in the head.**

**He doesn't even react at first, too stunned that Stan had had the nerve to actually throw food at him when they're both hooked up to so many machines. He tries to calm himself down, telling himself that if he gets in a fight in the hospital, he'll probably actually have charges pressed against him.**

**Instead, he goes for another sarcastic comment. "It doesn't matter how many phallic objects you try to throw at me, I'm still not going to fuck you," he says. And then, just to be a complete ass, he starts to eat the banana. Hey, he likes fruit, and if he eats it, that means Stan can't, and that means Stan has less food, which will piss Stan off. Win-win.**

"Well I'm not a manslut like you are." Stan said, watching as the other ate his banana. Oh, the irony of that..

"And I don't want you to fuck me. I don't want to even be in the same room with you." He huffed indignantly, and then went for the potato again. Who cared if it was burnt, at least it was food and he could eat it and ignore Craig.

With a low mutter he said, "But you want to fuck me obviously, eating my banana..perverted bastard."

"**Sleeping with someone doesn't make me a manslut. Either way, I'd rather be a manslut than a fucking cock tease," he says, finishing off the banana before glaring at the piece of bread again.**

**Craig glances over at Stan's food, noticing him pick up the abandoned potato. He was going to crack wise before, when Stan didn't finish it, but now seems like a better opportunity. "So you're actually going to **_**finish **_**that potato? I was beginning to think you gave up on **_**everything**_** half way through."**

**He doesn't even respond to Stan's muttering, just letting the thought of Craig 'eating Stan's banana' sink into Stan's head on its own. Craig doesn't even need to help with that one; Stan'll piss himself off.**

"Gnnnngh." Stan growled, shoving the table with the food on it away so it hung over the side of his bed. He then slowly lowered himself back down and took the pillow on his bed and folded it over his head, so he couldn't hear what Craig was saying. It wasn't that he couldn't stand - well, actually, yes, it was because he couldn't stand Craig. He wanted to leave the room. He wanted the catheter out. Like, was this some sort of ploy to make him more miserable - saving him and putting him in the same room with that intolerable bastard?

He kept quiet, enjoying the silence now that he had muffled out all sound.

**Craig scoffs at Stan's half-assed attempt to ignore him. Fine; if Craig can't annoy him with words, hell annoy him some other way. Hell, it's the only entertainment in the whole room.**

**Be picks up the banana peels and throws them over at Stan, not caring where they land as long as they hit him. At least he's not wasting food; just the foods' carcasses.**

_The nurse walked back into the room. "Hello again-"_

"I want to be discharged," Stan said loudly, the minute he realized the nurse was back in the room. He pointed down and then said, "And the catheter off."

"_Well let's get that done then," The nurse said as she walked over to Stan's bed, and then shut the curtain. A few minutes later she opened it again, and Stan looked less than happy. She had taken out the port and then she said, "Your parents are here, but you're going to have to wait in here until they fill out the paperwork." She then left the room again. _

Stan looked at Craig, and then he slipped out of the bed and walked past the other's bed and waited instead outside the closed door. He wasn't going to put up with his shit any longer. After today, they were never speaking again.

**Craig scoffs as Stan walks away. Whatever, Craig wants out of here, too. He pushes the call button a few times. Maybe since she just left, she'd come right back. It takes a few minutes, but not nearly as long as it had taken for someone to help Stan. He smirks at that, loving the fact that Stan had to work so much harder for the same result.**

"**I want out, too," he says. He ignores anything she says because she pisses him off anyway, and she takes everything off/out of him. She gives him the same spiel that she gave Stan, and then walks off.**

**Craig is less that comfortable now, with the things she had to take out of him. He decides that he never wants to be in a hospital bed again. He stands and stretches, trying to gain his energy back. The food he'd eaten really helped.**

**He thinks about going out into the hallway to further annoy Stan, but he doesn't. He's sick of Stan. He sits back on his mattress and just thinks about what he's going to do when he gets home. Damn, fuck this whole weekend. **


	4. 05 07 2012 a

05.07.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh**: just ignore wendy.

**Craig Tucker**: Why would I even bother talking to Wendy?

**Stan Marsh**: ok. keep it that way.

**Craig Tucker**: I thought you weren't talking to me

**Craig Tucker**: Go away

**Stan Marsh**: not. bye.

**Craig Tucker**: Whatever

**Stan Marsh**: fuck off

**Craig Tucker**: Then stop responding

**Stan Marsh**: you stop responding.

**Craig Tucker**: You the one talking to me, dick face

**Stan Marsh**: you're responding.

**Craig Tucker**: Because it pisses you off

**Craig Tucker**: And I find that hilarious

**Stan Marsh**: it doesn't.

**Craig Tucker**: It doesn't? Then why are you telling me to fuck off?

**Stan Marsh**: because you need to be reminded. fuck off.

**Craig Tucker**: You think you can tell me what to do? You fuck off.

**Stan Marsh**: yes. fuck off.

**Craig Tucker**: No.

**Stan Marsh**: fuck off tucker.

**Craig Tucker**: You know, this would be a lot easier if you would stop telling me what to do.

**Craig Tucker**: You're the bitch, not me

**Stan Marsh**: whatever. I'll tell you what I want to tell you. fuck off.

**Craig Tucker**: Stop being an asshole; what is this even about?

**Craig Tucker**: What the fuck do you even want?

**Stan Marsh**: what do you want, you're the one responding

**Craig Tucker**: You're the fucking one who IMed me

**Craig Tucker**: Why do you even have my IM address?

**Stan Marsh**: i've always had it. you're on my list as "Fuckface".

**Craig Tucker**: How cute, you have pet names for me

**Stan Marsh**: it's not a pet name. it's a title.

**Stan Marsh**: one you qualify for

**Craig Tucker**: Alright, well then I'm going to call you "Shortie"

**Craig Tucker**: Because you're short

**Stan Marsh**: that's original.

**Stan Marsh**: go ahead

**Stan Marsh**: shows your creativity level

**Craig Tucker**: Or, hey, how about "Stanly" because we're so goddamn close I can call you by your first name now

**Stan Marsh**: we're not close.

**Craig Tucker**: Considering you love talking to me so much

**Stan Marsh**: no. I don't.

**Stan Marsh**: fuck off.

**Craig Tucker**: We've been over this

**Stan Marsh**: that you should fuck off?

**Craig Tucker**: That you can't fucking tell me what to do

**Craig Tucker**: You know I'm going to do the exact opposite anyway

**Craig Tucker**: So it's like you want me to keep talking

**Stan Marsh**: ok. then don't fuck off.

**Craig Tucker**: If you insist

**Stan Marsh**: jfc, just fuck off dude

**Craig Tucker**: Why, when it's so much fun to piss you off

**Craig Tucker**: It's so easy

**Craig Tucker**: It's almost pathetic

**Stan Marsh**: you have a school girl crush, huh? funny.

**Stan Marsh**: i know you have blue balls still, tucker, but this is just sad.

**Craig Tucker**: Hahaha, right, like I haven't corrected that by now

**Craig Tucker**: Just because you're a pussy ass virgin doesn't mean I am

**Stan Marsh**: yeah, I know. you have conquests in great numbers.

**Stan Marsh**: must be very emotionally stable, huh

**Craig Tucker**: Jealousy isn't the appropriate response here

**Craig Tucker**: Besides, it is stable

**Stan Marsh**: it's not jealousy.

**Craig Tucker**: Denial

**Stan Marsh**: if I wanted to be a manslut, I'd do it.

**Stan Marsh**: but I have no desire to stick my dick in random people. especially not random people who don't want it in the locker room.

**Craig Tucker**: HAHA THAT'S FUNNY

**Craig Tucker**: You think you could top someone

**Craig Tucker**: Have goals; it builds character

**Craig Tucker**: Just don't be disappointed when you don't reach them

**Stan Marsh**: uh, I really don't give a fuck to discuss this, but don't think of me sexually. makes me want to gut myself.

**Stan Marsh**: why don't you just listen to this, www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=oiyYnaI6byk , and go fuck yourself. yeah. have fun with that.

**Craig Tucker**: You like Dope, huh? Hey, me too.

**Craig Tucker**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=qiMaOmDtaYI

**Stan Marsh**: don't give a fuck.

**Craig Tucker**: Me either.

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=77tvDMkc9eE . go away.

**Craig Tucker**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=m7lxTF3Kk4c

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ

**Craig Tucker**: Ah, you dick

**Stan Marsh**: made you look

**Craig Tucker**: What are you trying to say with this?

**Craig Tucker**: I know you loved me

**Craig Tucker**: Sick asshole

**Stan Marsh**: I'm trying to say this. www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=2Z4m4lnjxkY

**Craig Tucker**: What the fuck…?

**Craig Tucker**: Are you high?

**Stan Marsh**: here you go. www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=83M60qeRyMc

**Craig Tucker**: Okay, stop.

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=rzeN5fVQOoU

**Stan Marsh**: fuck

**Stan Marsh**: No

**Stan Marsh**: don't look at that one

**Craig Tucker**: Fuck you, dude

**Stan Marsh**: fuck you.

**Craig Tucker**: Don't send me videos of animals; I'll kill you in your sleep

**Stan Marsh**: oh, so you're irritated now

**Craig Tucker**: I'm irritated because you're trying to get on my good side with it

**Craig Tucker**: My good side is reserved for non-dicks

**Craig Tucker**: So fuck off

**Stan Marsh**: you mean, like this www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=tvXb6aSluiM

**Craig Tucker**: Stop

**Craig Tucker**: Seriously

**Craig Tucker**: I will hurt you

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=64Z80vpxFmg

**Craig Tucker**: I'm not even clicking the fucking videos anymore

**Craig Tucker**: So you're wasting your time

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=hVqgIkEJL40 you sure? it's really cute.

**Stan Marsh**: that last one it looks like it's dancing.

**Stan Marsh**: look how it plays, omg.

**Stan Marsh**: So cute.

**Craig Tucker**: Don't care

**Stan Marsh**: sure you don't

**Craig Tucker**: Why do you want me to care in the first place?

**Craig Tucker**: Watch the videos by yourself

**Stan Marsh**: I don't really give a fuck about what you feel. I'm just bothering the shit out of you.

**Stan Marsh**: look, they're popcorning www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=mR7aT5bXW4g

**Stan Marsh**: and playing tag

**Stan Marsh**: how cute

**Craig Tucker**: Hey, that last one is kinda like you chasing me around

**Craig Tucker**: Because you won't leave me alone

**Stan Marsh**: aren't we adorable in that.

**Craig Tucker**: "We" will never be adorable

**Stan Marsh**: sure we are

**Craig Tucker**: Stop

**Craig Tucker**: We're not cute

**Craig Tucker**: That's fucking disturbing

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=egnX3uvKXNc

**Stan Marsh**: just like that.

**Stan Marsh**: but imo, they ruined the video by talking through it

**Stan Marsh**: look, there you are. www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=kU0RSHubFfM

**Craig Tucker**: We don't look like that

**Stan Marsh**: you're the black one.

**Craig Tucker**: Why

**Stan Marsh**: because obviously when someone is lying there, it's an appropriate time to make out with them.

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=m904SQBfCBI

**Stan Marsh**: look, that one has a hairclip. how cute.

**Craig Tucker**: When did I ever make out with you while you were laying down? You're delusional.

**Stan Marsh**: hahaha.

**Stan Marsh**: yeah.

**Craig Tucker**: You fucking started it anyway

**Stan Marsh**: when did you not try making out with me is how that question should be worded.

**Stan Marsh**: freak

**Craig Tucker**: There were plenty of times I didn't

**Craig Tucker**: Besides, again, /you/ were the one that started it

**Craig Tucker**: Not me

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=vF6PyIML0hI

**Stan Marsh**: how about this

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=Xqk_8do4UqY

**Craig Tucker**: I'm going to kill you

**Craig Tucker**: Painfully

**Craig Tucker**: Slowly

**Stan Marsh**: yep

**Stan Marsh**: guess so

**Craig Tucker**: Then again, if I kept you tied down for too long, you'd probably morph into a cat in heat

**Craig Tucker**: So maybe I'll just kill you quickly

**Stan Marsh**: oh, cats?

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=2kgqF8BFZoU like this one?

**Craig Tucker**: Maybe I'll just choke you by shoving a kitten down your throat

**Stan Marsh**: you like wildlife? www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=ryAK7L_7SZs

**Craig Tucker**: Stop asking what I like

**Craig Tucker**: You're seriously freaking me out

**Craig Tucker**: Stop

**Craig Tucker**: Just don't

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=PJnn-wMPU9w

**Stan Marsh**: what do you think of birds? www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=zHySSPzeVQE

**Craig Tucker**: I'm leaving

**Stan Marsh**: I win.

**Craig Tucker**: Why would I sit here while you spam me shit you think I want to see?

**Craig Tucker**: It's a waste of time

**Stan Marsh**: yet you look, and enjoy it.

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: yes.

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: all those adorable animals

**Craig Tucker**: You're a dick

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=epUk3T2Kfno there's us again

**Stan Marsh**: how sweet.

**Stan Marsh**: are you freaked out yet?

**Craig Tucker**: I'm beginning to think these are just your fantasies

**Stan Marsh**: yeah because logically people fantasize about being with people as animals. that's just how love works.

**Stan Marsh**: dumbass

**Craig Tucker**: Well when you send me videos of them holding hands and licking each other's faces and then say it's us

**Craig Tucker**: That looks like a fantasy to me

**Stan Marsh**: yeah. that makes absolutely no sense, but keep dreaming, maybe it'll make you feel better.

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=clpgffj3sUw beaver babies.

**Stan Marsh**: you know ducks snore? www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=_vdYSZ4YGnU

**Craig Tucker**: You're making my fucking computer slow

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=Td29-SApubM polar bear baby sees double.

**Stan Marsh**: why, because you're too stupid to close the windows after you open them?

**Craig Tucker**: No, asshole, because the videos take up bandwidth to receive

**Stan Marsh**: hahaha.

**Stan Marsh**: sucks to be you

**Stan Marsh**: should I switch to images?

**Stan Marsh**:24 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m2munhF9d81qc5kkto1_500 dot jpg like this

**Stan Marsh**: 24 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_lzigmt7XV61qdenqeo1_500 dot jpg aww look at the tiny paws

**Stan Marsh**: omg it's like stacking blocks only cuter 27 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_lvdcn9J2ne1qz4vdao1_500 dot jpg

**Stan Marsh**: there's nothing better than a computer..until you put a baby guinea pig on it 30 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_loulm7gdmS1qg913oo7_250 dot jpg

**Stan Marsh**: somehow, i don't think they have the right size of shoe : 28 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_lo6v7jL7Rs1qmgj5co1_500 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker**: Stop making bad puns

**Stan Marsh**: make me.

**Craig Tucker**: Not this again

**Stan Marsh**: it's a pigloo 28 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_lzq6ybRx521qiv3kmo1_500 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker**: Alright, keep spamming me

**Stan Marsh**: why?

**Craig Tucker**: Because you won't stop anyway, so whatever

**Stan Marsh**: you like it

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: haha liar.

**Craig Tucker**: Your girlfriend is IMing me

**Stan Marsh**: what?

**Craig Tucker**: Your girlfriend

**Craig Tucker**: Is IMing me

**Stan Marsh**: iming you

**Stan Marsh**: what

**Stan Marsh**: don't make me box you 28 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m3jxqwDHBZ1rppsk3o1_500 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker**: Okay, the bad puns need to stop

**Craig Tucker**: And I don't know

**Craig Tucker**: She's interrogating me

**Stan Marsh**: like what are you replying with

**Craig Tucker**: Wouldn't you like to know

**Stan Marsh**: get your shit in a line and tell me what she's saying 24 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m3o87hM44a1qj49coo1_500 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: tell me

**Craig Tucker**: Why?

**Stan Marsh**: I want to know what you're telling my girlfriend.

**Craig Tucker**: Why should I tell you?

**Stan Marsh**: dogone it 28 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m3nu372VEn1rrg7ajo1_500 dot gif just tell me

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: tell me

**Craig Tucker**: Why don't you ask her yourself

**Craig Tucker**: Because I'm not telling you

**Stan Marsh**: what are you telling her.

**Craig Tucker**: Words

**Stan Marsh**: quit lying about it

**Craig Tucker**: I'm not lying

**Craig Tucker**: Why would I lie?

**Craig Tucker**: She has nothing to do with it

**Craig Tucker**: I have no reason to lie to her

**Stan Marsh**: wait

**Stan Marsh**: you're telling her the truth

**Stan Marsh**: what the fuck

**Stan Marsh**: I thought we said we weren't going to do that.

**Craig Tucker**: Well obviously you told her or she wouldn't be questioning me

**Stan Marsh**: goddamnit

**Stan Marsh**: fuck you, craig

**Stan Marsh**: I'm telling Kenny what you did

**Craig Tucker**: I'm already telling Kenny; don't be a dick

**Stan Marsh**: no. I'm going to.

**Stan Marsh**: And I'll tell him exactly where your hands have been.

**Craig Tucker**: And yours

**Stan Marsh**: and how after I said no you pulled me back

**Craig Tucker**: You were taunting me

**Craig Tucker**: Like it was a game

**Stan Marsh**: you're a fucking bastard.

**Stan Marsh**: I can't fucking believe you told her it was me who started that

**Craig Tucker**: It was

**Stan Marsh**: It was not

**Craig Tucker**: You were all "Can I be honest? That fight really turned me on and I liked it when you held me down. You wanna mess around?"

**Craig Tucker**: Ring any bells?

**Stan Marsh**: No. it does not ring a fucking bell.

**Craig Tucker**: Well that's pretty much what you said to me

**Craig Tucker**: And I even told you I wasn't horny

**Craig Tucker**: So you seduced me

**Craig Tucker**: And then ran away like a bitch

**Stan Marsh**: Fuck you Craig

**Stan Marsh**: Fuck

**Stan Marsh**: you

**Stan Marsh**: Fuck you fuck you fuck you.

**Craig Tucker**: What the fuck is your problem now?

**Stan Marsh**: You are the fucking worst human being on this fucking planet.

**Craig Tucker**: Thanks, that means a lot

**Craig Tucker**: Truly

**Stan Marsh**: fuck you craig.

**Stan Marsh**: Fuck you.

**Craig Tucker**: What, are you in trouble with your girlfriend now?

**Craig Tucker**: Should have thought of that before you blue-balled me three fucking times

**Stan Marsh**: you motherfucking bastard

**Craig Tucker**: All I did was tell the truth

**Craig Tucker**: Which you should have done in the first place

**Craig Tucker**: So don't fucking blame me

**Stan Marsh**: well I'm going to tell Kenny what you did.

**Stan Marsh**: in great fucking detail.

**Stan Marsh**: because I wasn't the one who walked in and pinned someone naked.

**Craig Tucker**: You challenged me

**Stan Marsh**: All those incidents where you almost raped me, those were you

**Craig Tucker**: Besides, the point isn't who started it

**Stan Marsh**: I pulled your fucking leg but never touched you like that

**Craig Tucker**: The point is that we fucking cheated

**Stan Marsh**: I would not

**Stan Marsh**: cheat

**Stan Marsh**: with you

**Craig Tucker**: Well you did

**Stan Marsh**: I did not

**Craig Tucker**: You did

**Stan Marsh**: did not.

**Craig Tucker**: Then what do you call what we did?

**Stan Marsh**: cheating implies there was intent, and being locked in a locker room with a horny bastard who wants to stick his dick in you is not intent.

**Craig Tucker**: You fucking consented you piece of shit

**Craig Tucker**: Admit you were wrong for once

**Craig Tucker**: I cheated too

**Craig Tucker**: Fuck

**Stan Marsh**: No. I wasn't. I didn't consent.

**Craig Tucker**: You did

**Craig Tucker**: Stop living in denial

**Stan Marsh**: Did not

**Craig Tucker**: Okay believe whatever the fuck you want

**Stan Marsh**: Being pressured into something is called coercion, bastard.

**Stan Marsh**: and there was a lot of that in those locker rooms coming from your mouth, 'I've got a condom"

**Stan Marsh**: who the fuck are you trying to prove by shotgunning me multiple times

**Stan Marsh**: That wasn't even a challenge

**Stan Marsh**: you just wanted on me

**Craig Tucker**: That. I don't know what that was. But you didn't say no.

**Craig Tucker**: So fuck you

**Stan Marsh**: yeah, you don't know.

**Stan Marsh**: Fucking bastard

**Stan Marsh**: Try to rape me and then say oops

**Stan Marsh**: Fuck you Craig

**Stan Marsh**: For someone who complained about blue balls multiple times you're awfully strong on this cheating thing.

**Craig Tucker**: It wasn't rape, you fucking consented!

**Stan Marsh**: Coercion

**Craig Tucker**: And when you said no, I stopped

**Stan Marsh**: No you didn't

**Craig Tucker**: I did

**Stan Marsh**: you tried pulling me back multiple times

**Craig Tucker**: I tried pulling you back /once/

**Stan Marsh**: Multiple

**Stan Marsh**: fucking

**Stan Marsh**: times

**Stan Marsh**: Pinning me

**Craig Tucker**: Once

**Stan Marsh**: Multiple times

**Craig Tucker**: Stop being full of yourself

**Craig Tucker**: If you get in trouble, it's your own damn fault, not mine

**Stan Marsh**: same right back at you

**Stan Marsh**: dirtbag.

**Craig Tucker**: Go fuck yourself; I'm done talking to you

**Stan Marsh**: you go fuck yourself.

**Stan Marsh**: with a crowbar.

**Craig Tucker**: Ohh, specific

**Craig Tucker**: You got a kink for that too?

**Stan Marsh**: nothing comparable to your liking to be bitten.

**Craig Tucker**: Hey

**Craig Tucker**: It feels good

**Stan Marsh**: gross. sick. fuck.

**Craig Tucker**: At least I'm not the one who likes being dominated

**Craig Tucker**: That's some S/M shit right there

**Stan Marsh**: like biting isn't

**Craig Tucker**: No, lots of people like biting and hair pulling

**Craig Tucker**: It's common

**Stan Marsh**: why the fuck are you discussing sexual things with me. You fucking rapist in training

**Craig Tucker**: Okay, stop talking to me

**Craig Tucker**: I'm not a fucking rapist

**Stan Marsh**: you are.

**Craig Tucker**: You were more than willing; even if you deny it now

**Stan Marsh**: i bet you planned locking us in the locker room.

**Stan Marsh**: that's why you had fucking condoms.

**Craig Tucker**: And if you weren't you did a pretty fucking good job of pretending

**Craig Tucker**: I'm dating /Kenny/

**Craig Tucker**: Of course I had a fucking condom on me

**Stan Marsh**: Yeah, don't remind me that a fucking creep is dating my best friend

**Craig Tucker**: Don't get pissy just because he's hotter than you

**Stan Marsh**: you're not hot.

**Craig Tucker**: I didn't say I was; but you saying otherwise means you're only trying to prove it to yourself

**Stan Marsh**: ugh

**Stan Marsh**: whatever tucker

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah, whatever, fuck you

**Stan Marsh**: just do this off into the distance and leave me alone www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=tLPZmPaHme0

**Craig Tucker**: Stop sending my videos; it isn't funny anymore

**Craig Tucker**: Fuck you

**Stan Marsh**: that one is an insult

**Stan Marsh**: not meant for your amusement.

**Craig Tucker**: Well you're real creative; have fun with your videos

**Stan Marsh**: go trim your pencil mustache, bastard

**Craig Tucker**: The fuck, you don't even make sense anymore

**Craig Tucker**: Why don't you just go drink some fucking mouth wash and leave me alone

**Stan Marsh**: only if you sleep like a mutt on the floor again. that was fucking hilarious.

**Craig Tucker**: I was fucking tired, asshole

**Stan Marsh**: there were other benches, dick

**Craig Tucker**: After I got the fucking food, so you didn't fucking die on my watch, I pretty much passed out

**Stan Marsh**: but since you were busy trying to plan how you'd get laid, I guess sleeping in a close proximity of the target would be beneficial/

**Craig Tucker**: I didn't have the energy to make it to a bench, fuck you

**Craig Tucker**: You know how bad the starvation was

**Stan Marsh**: yeah because two feet is that much harder

**Stan Marsh**: yeah I do

**Stan Marsh**: but I didn't try raping you

**Craig Tucker**: Okay, seriously, I'm going to kick your ass if you keep calling me a rapist

**Stan Marsh**: rapist

**Stan Marsh**: rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist rapist

**Craig Tucker**: We didn't even fucking have sex

**Stan Marsh**: no, because I shoved you off

**Craig Tucker**: There was no rape

**Stan Marsh**: you're in training.

**Craig Tucker**: No, because I backed off

**Stan Marsh**: now I know how rapists grow up to be rapists I guess

**Craig Tucker**: I'm going to kill you

**Stan Marsh**: go ahead

**Stan Marsh**: try

**Stan Marsh**: I fucking dare you

**Stan Marsh**: to even try to get near me, bastard

**Craig Tucker**: You're going to try to tell me that if you wanted to get up, you couldn't have?

**Craig Tucker**: I know how hard you fucking punch

**Craig Tucker**: If you really wanted to get away, you would have

**Stan Marsh**: I was starving and dehydrated and I ingested fucking poison, douchebag. you took advantage of that.

**Craig Tucker**: I didn't fucking take advantage of anything

**Craig Tucker**: If anything, you took advantage of me; you knew I would be missing sex

**Craig Tucker**: So you used it against me

**Stan Marsh**: jesus christ

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah, exactly, sick isn't it

**Stan Marsh**: no, I did not use that against you, because i didn't even know you were goddamn horny until you started getting all over me

**Stan Marsh**: fuck

**Stan Marsh**: ew

**Craig Tucker**: You were the one who MADE me horny. You were in my lap and kissing me, what the fuck

**Craig Tucker**: How did you not know?

**Stan Marsh**: that was a joke because you're a fucking douchebag

**Stan Marsh**: i didn't think you'd actually act on anything, jesus

**Craig Tucker**: I didn't start anything that time; that was all you. You were on me, and you were the one going for my pants. I just sat there, and then you walked away

**Stan Marsh**: I said challenge completed or whatever, that showed it was fake

**Stan Marsh**: did you actually want to do me? jesus christ ..

**Craig Tucker**: No, I didn't

**Craig Tucker**: But it was still a dick move to walk away

**Stan Marsh**: ….

**Stan Marsh**: you wanted to do me

**Stan Marsh**: I thought you were joking

**Craig Tucker**: No, I didn't.

**Stan Marsh**: Sure

**Stan Marsh**: sure you didn't

**Craig Tucker**: Seriously, I had no idea what I was fucking doing that time

**Craig Tucker**: I was just letting you do whatever you wanted

**Stan Marsh**: I was just letting you do whatever because I thought you'd kill me

**Craig Tucker**: You were /on top of me/

**Craig Tucker**: I wasn't doing anything

**Stan Marsh**: and you went on top of me

**Stan Marsh**: what is the point of this conversation

**Craig Tucker**: I actually don't even remember

**Craig Tucker**: But we're fighting

**Craig Tucker**: And I'm going to win

**Craig Tucker**: It was your fault

**Stan Marsh**: It was not

**Stan Marsh**: just leave me alone

**Craig Tucker**: It was definitely your fault. Especially with that fucking first bite. What the hell kind of asshole bites during a fight anyway?

**Stan Marsh**: it's called dirty fighting. you're not supposed to be a freak and like it.

**Craig Tucker**: It's called being a bitch and fighting like a girl

**Stan Marsh**: dirty fighting. watch fight club

**Craig Tucker**: Just the term "dirty fighting" sounds like something I don't want to get into, but hey, you're the one with the thing for S/M so I'll leave that to you

**Stan Marsh**: what the hell

**Stan Marsh**: just quit it

**Stan Marsh**: You sound like you're my wife or some shit

**Stan Marsh**: that entire thing changes nothing craig

**Stan Marsh**: I don't like you, I don't want to talk to you

**Craig Tucker**: You think it changed things?

**Craig Tucker**: You're the one sending me videos of cute animals

**Craig Tucker**: Trying to gain my approval or something

**Stan Marsh**: that was to annoy the hell out of you.

**Craig Tucker**: Don't lie; you almost admitted it before, why don't you just say it

**Craig Tucker**: You like me

**Stan Marsh**: no

**Stan Marsh**: I don't

**Craig Tucker**: Whatever, it's not like I care.

**Stan Marsh**: yeah. if you didn't you wouldn't be asking me.

**Stan Marsh**: why don't you just admit you're obsessed with me

**Craig Tucker**: I have a boyfriend, dumbass. I like /him/

**Stan Marsh**: didn't keep you from attempting to shotgun me to death

**Craig Tucker**: I already told you, I don't know what that was. You were being a dick and not even saying anything about it, so I wanted you to react. The least you could have done was punch me, but no, you leaned into it. Your fault.

**Stan Marsh**: Why would you want me to react

**Stan Marsh**: Why

**Stan Marsh**: Why would you want anything to do with me

**Craig Tucker**: Because you weren't being normal

**Craig Tucker**: Why didn't you hit me

**Craig Tucker**: Or something

**Craig Tucker**: It was fucking weird

**Stan Marsh**: Why is that my fault

**Stan Marsh**: Why do you care if I like you or not

**Stan Marsh**: I don't get any of this

**Stan Marsh**: just leave me alone

**Craig Tucker**: It just is. All of this is your fault.

**Craig Tucker**: You're probably the one that locked us in there

**Stan Marsh**: i did not

**Craig Tucker**: I don't care if you like me

**Stan Marsh**: sure

**Craig Tucker**: I don't want you to

**Stan Marsh**: sure you don't

**Craig Tucker**: That's fucked up

**Stan Marsh**: Are you going to say that and go get a condom because that's the sort of mixed up shit you've been sending me all weekend, might as well carry into the fucking week

**Craig Tucker**: That sentence didn't even make sense, you stupid fuck

**Stan Marsh**: you tell me you hate me and then ask to fuck me

**Stan Marsh**: what do you not get about that sentence

**Stan Marsh**: I'm on painkillers, fuck you

**Craig Tucker**: Okay, you know what? Fuck you. That last time, I really did want to fuck you. I got caught up in the moment, and that's all I could think about. But then I started thinking about Kenny, and I wasn't sure anymore. But then you tried to pull away again, and it pissed me off so fucking bad that you would do something like that. Even if you hate me, you have to know how fucking bad being denied hurts. So I didn't even care about the sex at that point, I cared that you would really do that to someone on fucking purpose. Because you're a giant dick. And I hate you and I don't know what I was thinking, but there, I fucking said it.

**Stan Marsh**: I hate you.

**Craig Tucker**: I hate you, too

**Stan Marsh**: I hate you more.

**Craig Tucker**: No, you really don't.

**Craig Tucker**: I fucking hate you

**Craig Tucker**: More than anything

**Stan Marsh**: I fucking hate you more than Cartman.

**Craig Tucker**: You're /friends/ with Cartman; obviously you don't hate him that much

**Stan Marsh**: He's one of those people you hate and he just keeps standing around.

**Stan Marsh**: I hate you more than him.

**Craig Tucker**: I hate you more that those people who abandon those pets at the shelter

**Stan Marsh**: I hate you more than those people who throw puppies out the window on the freeway.

**Craig Tucker**: I hate you more than I would hate someone if they killed Stripe

**Stan Marsh**: I hate you more than I would hate someone if they started the zombie apocalypse

**Craig Tucker**: Wait, you're actually afraid of zombies?

**Craig Tucker**: The fuck

**Stan Marsh**: …..

**Craig Tucker**: REALLY?

**Craig Tucker**: You're such a bitch

**Stan Marsh**: You're a fucktard.

**Craig Tucker**: At least I'm not afraid of a mindless zombie that moves at two mile an hour

**Stan Marsh**: power in numbers, you moron

**Stan Marsh**: one or two would be fine to take out but if you walk in a mall of them you're dead

**Stan Marsh**: obviously you play 0 video games with zombies

**Craig Tucker**: I play lots of fucking video games with zombies

**Stan Marsh**: go play dead rising and tell me how long you last.

**Craig Tucker**: And I kick ass

**Craig Tucker**: Obviously, you don't, or you wouldn't be afraid

**Stan Marsh**: I do.

**Craig Tucker**: Lies, otherwise you would know what to do in a zombie situation

**Stan Marsh**: like you would

**Craig Tucker**: I would

**Craig Tucker**: And I'm actually excited for a zombie take over

**Craig Tucker**: I'll kick so much zombie ass

**Craig Tucker**: It'll be fucking great

**Stan Marsh**: it's not going to happen.

**Stan Marsh**: that's retarded

**Stan Marsh**: god you're an idiot

**Stan Marsh**: just leave me alone

**Craig Tucker**: You're afraid

**Stan Marsh**: stop admitting your love for me and go away

**Craig Tucker**: Don't worry, I'll kill them all and then you won't have to worry about it

**Craig Tucker**: Because you're a pussy

**Craig Tucker**: And I'll have fun

**Stan Marsh**: …..

**Stan Marsh**: you're not protecting me

**Stan Marsh**: I'd rather shoot myself then chance being stuck in a room with you again.

**Craig Tucker**: It's not to protect you, asshole, it's because I'd have a shit load of fun smashing in zombie skull

**Stan Marsh**: sure.

**Craig Tucker**: And by the time I'm done, there's won't be any left to even get to you or anyone else

**Craig Tucker**: Me and Ruby; we'd both take those assholes down

**Craig Tucker**: We've even planned it out

**Craig Tucker**: How could you even be afraid!

**Craig Tucker**: I don't understand

**Stan Marsh**: I'm not afraid

**Craig Tucker**: Yes you are, why else would you use it as an analogy for hating me

**Craig Tucker**: Unless you love me

**Craig Tucker**: Which you say you don't

**Craig Tucker**: So you're afraid

**Stan Marsh**: ugh

**Craig Tucker**: So which is it?

**Stan Marsh**: Why do you care

**Craig Tucker**: Because I want to see you humiliated; it would make my fucking day

**Craig Tucker**: Which one is true?

**Craig Tucker**: Or are they both true?

**Craig Tucker**: Hmmmmm?

**Stan Marsh**: Shut up tucker

**Craig Tucker**: Aw, now you're embarrassed, too

**Craig Tucker**: Such a bitch

**Stan Marsh**: shut up

**Stan Marsh**: just go away

**Craig Tucker**: Answer my question; now I'm curious

**Stan Marsh**: fuck off.

**Craig Tucker**: That's not an answer

**Stan Marsh**: it is to me.

**Craig Tucker**: Then I'll just assume it's both and move on with my life

**Craig Tucker**: Have fun living in denial

**Stan Marsh**: what the hell

**Stan Marsh**: I don't like you

**Stan Marsh**: I hate you

**Stan Marsh**: there

**Craig Tucker**: So you're afraid of zombies then?

**Stan Marsh**: Yes

**Stan Marsh**: Yes, I'm afraid of zombies

**Craig Tucker**: …now I can't tell if you're lying or not.

**Craig Tucker**: Either way, I'm being a zombie for Halloween and scaring the shit out of you

**Stan Marsh**: have fun

**Stan Marsh**: another excuse to bite me, huh?

**Craig Tucker**: No, I wouldn't bite you, asshole

**Craig Tucker**: But I know people who would do it with me

**Craig Tucker**: And swarm after you

**Craig Tucker**: Hahahahaha

**Stan Marsh**: yeah

**Stan Marsh**: pay more attention to me

**Stan Marsh**: you don't seem obsessed at all, planning a holiday around me

**Craig Tucker**: You're an attention whore anyway

**Craig Tucker**: You're dramatic as fuck

**Craig Tucker**: And you take longer to shower than my sister does

**Craig Tucker**: Are you sure you aren't a girl?

**Stan Marsh**: hmm. not the last time you checked, right?

**Craig Tucker**: Ha. You're funny. You know, for 'not wanting to talk about it' you sure bring it up a lot

**Stan Marsh**: so do you

**Craig Tucker**: I've never brought it up; only defended myself.

**Craig Tucker**: Because I'm not the one obsessed with it

**Stan Marsh**: you're in denial

**Craig Tucker**: No, you're in denial

**Craig Tucker**: I admitted what I needed to admit

**Stan Marsh**: that you like me

**Craig Tucker**: No, that I almost wanted to fuck you

**Craig Tucker**: Almost

**Craig Tucker**: Being the key word

**Stan Marsh**: so you like me.

**Craig Tucker**: No, there's a fucking difference

**Craig Tucker**: Either way, that moment is long gone

**Stan Marsh**: sure there is

**Craig Tucker**: No longer existent

**Stan Marsh**: sure it isn't

**Stan Marsh**: why are you even still talking to me

**Craig Tucker**: I don't know; why are you talking to me?

**Stan Marsh**: I asked first.

**Craig Tucker**: I'm talking to you because you talked to me first

**Stan Marsh**: Sure.

**Stan Marsh**: you know what tucker

**Craig Tucker**: Well you did

**Stan Marsh**: Fuck you

**Stan Marsh**: And open this

**Stan Marsh**: 26 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m3omjkgnho1qcmjf4o1_500 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker**: Why are you doing this again?

**Stan Marsh**: To bother the shit out of you

**Craig Tucker**: You're so fucking desperate for me to like this shit

**Stan Marsh**: you responded less when I spammed you with cute animals

**Stan Marsh**: 30 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m3mjrk5a4o1rrasx1o1_400 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker**: …

**Stan Marsh**: it's smiling: 30 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m3l26aqz371r88msyo1_500 dot png

**Craig Tucker**: You're a freak

**Craig Tucker**: The things you do to piss people off

**Craig Tucker**: Are not normal

**Stan Marsh**: but effective

**Stan Marsh**: 27 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m3fpwdEdGb1rue5guo2_500 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker**: Spamming cute pictures and kissing people are not how you piss them off

**Craig Tucker**: Well I guess it pisses me off

**Craig Tucker**: But still

**Stan Marsh**: 30 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m3duwdE4fd1rnyeudo1_500 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker**: It's not normal

**Craig Tucker**: Don't start memeing too

**Craig Tucker**: Because I don't even like memeing

**Stan Marsh**: cat burrito 25 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m33ropk3sa1r1vjn3o1_500 dot jpg

**Stan Marsh**: 27 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m37g9oAzco1qk1w6mo1_500 dot jpg

**Stan Marsh**: 24 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m1szcl0awW1qk1w6mo1_500 dot jpg

**Stan Marsh**: 30 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m0w553ZCK41qbui34o1_500 dot png

**Stan Marsh**: 25 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_lvqfnuZzUa1qhv5ako1_500 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker**: fc05 dot deviantart dot net/fs6/i/2005/024/c/7/zombie_by_uncherished dot jpg

**Craig Tucker**: mismegs dot files dot wordpress dot com/2012/03/410-0821120919-zombie dot jpg

**Stan Marsh**: that make up isn't even well done

**Craig Tucker**: unrealitymag dot com/wp-content/uploads/2010/04/realistic_zombie_costumes_07 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker**: kinote dot info/system/images/images/7051/beveled-zombie dot jpg

**Stan Marsh**: that just didn't make sense. why would you wear make up on your eyelashes if you're all bloody anyways.

**Stan Marsh**: okay, let me explain something to you

**Stan Marsh**: I'm not afraid of zombies

**Stan Marsh**: unless they're in the room with me

**Stan Marsh**: which will never happen

**Stan Marsh**: so sending me images is like hoping I'm afraid of Dead Rising's video game case.

**Craig Tucker**: 2 dot bp dot /-pV1tMM5Qtws/TYIum5Z-Z_I/AAAAAAAAAWg/mSaoxeNjdU8/s1600/Amnesia%2Bmonster dot jpg

**Stan Marsh**: which I'm not, otherwise I wouldn't own it.

**Craig Tucker**: Something tells me you're afraid of that dumb game, too

**Stan Marsh**: not really

**Stan Marsh**: I'm not

**Craig Tucker**: images dot bit-tech dot net/content_images/2010/09/amnesia-the-dark-descent-review/amnesia-dd-3 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker**: www dot rockpapershotgun dot com/images/10/sept/am/am-bodies dot jpg

**Stan Marsh**: umn..

**Stan Marsh**: yeah

**Stan Marsh**: not opening them anymore

**Stan Marsh**: that's just gross

**Craig Tucker**: You're gross

**Craig Tucker**: you're gross.

**Stan Marsh**: it really bothers you that I denied you three times, huh.

**Craig Tucker**: Stop bringing it up

**Stan Marsh**: nope

**Craig Tucker**: Because you want me to think about it because you don't want to be the only one

**Stan Marsh**: wish I could meme the picture of you getting doused with water. with "FAIL" printed over it in larger letters.

**Craig Tucker**: You know; you failed just as much as I did

**Stan Marsh**: haha, yeah right

**Craig Tucker**: Because you still walked away hard

**Craig Tucker**: I could have fixed that

**Craig Tucker**: But no

**Stan Marsh**: ….

**Craig Tucker**: You're a dick

**Stan Marsh**: don't. ever. say you can fix something like that.

**Stan Marsh**: you can't

**Stan Marsh**: I was thinking of wendy

**Craig Tucker**: Sure you were

**Stan Marsh**: whole time I was

**Craig Tucker**: No you weren't

**Craig Tucker**: Wendy doesn't have a dick

**Stan Marsh**: I'm not gay, despite what you hope

**Stan Marsh**: I don't know what this is but just ..stop.

**Stan Marsh**: I don't want to talk to you

**Stan Marsh**: I'm not responding anymore.

**Craig Tucker**: You're not gay. Right. That's why you were fucking around with Kenny and you asked me to fuck around with you

**Stan Marsh**: That's none of your business with Kenny, and you, you're just a horny bastard.

**Craig Tucker**: You were the one that asked.

**Craig Tucker**: I would have been perfectly content to not touch you at all

**Craig Tucker**: But you asked

**Craig Tucker**: You started it

**Stan Marsh**: what do you expect to get out of asking me if I like you or not?

**Craig Tucker**: Nothing

**Stan Marsh**: no, really.

**Stan Marsh**: what are you expecting.

**Craig Tucker**: To be an annoying asshole because I hate you

**Stan Marsh**: this is like gradeschool behavior.

**Craig Tucker**: And making you question yourself is funny

**Stan Marsh**: Goddamnit I'm not questioning myself

**Craig Tucker**: You are

**Stan Marsh**: Look. Kenny's one of my best friends, and I know you're both still together.

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah?

**Craig Tucker**: And?

**Stan Marsh**: And I don't want anything to do with you. ever.

**Stan Marsh**: So I'll tolerate you

**Stan Marsh**: but it's not even remotely close to liking you. so just shut up, leave me alone, and make kenny happy.

**Craig Tucker**: Well I'm glad I'm 'tolerable;' that means a fucking lot to me.

**Craig Tucker**: Don't worry about Kenny

**Stan Marsh**: just drop the formalities. we fucking hate each other.

**Craig Tucker**: What formalities?

**Stan Marsh**: just

**Stan Marsh**: stop talking

**Craig Tucker**: What if I don't?

**Stan Marsh**: JFC

**Stan Marsh**: Just stop

**Craig Tucker**: …

**Craig Tucker**: …

**Craig Tucker**: .

**Craig Tucker**: .

**Craig Tucker**: .

**Craig Tucker**: .

**Craig Tucker**: ….

**Craig Tucker**: …

**Craig Tucker**: ..

**Craig Tucker**: …

**Craig Tucker**: ..

**Craig Tucker**: …

**Craig Tucker**: ..

**Craig Tucker**: …

**Craig Tucker**: .

**Craig Tucker**: …

**Craig Tucker**: ..

**Craig Tucker**: …..

**Stan Marsh**: douchebag.

**Craig Tucker**: Hey, I thought we weren't talking

**Craig Tucker**: ….

**Craig Tucker**: ..

**Craig Tucker**: …

**Craig Tucker**: …..

**Stan Marsh**: Goddamnit quit it

**Craig Tucker**: ..

**Craig Tucker**: Why should I?

**Craig Tucker**:: If it annoys you, I should keep doing it.

**Stan Marsh**: Why do you want to annoy me

**Craig Tucker**: Because I fucking hate you

**Stan Marsh**: why.

**Craig Tucker**: And you deserve to be miserable

**Stan Marsh**: why.

**Craig Tucker**: Because… I hate you; does there need to be a reason?

**Craig Tucker**: Why do you hate me?

**Stan Marsh**: Because you're a douchebag

**Stan Marsh**: That's pretty much it

**Craig Tucker**: Well you're an asshole

**Craig Tucker**: So that's my reasoning

**Stan Marsh**: fine I just won't respond

**Craig Tucker**: Really, my heart, it's broken.

**Stan Marsh**: …

**Craig Tucker**: What?

**Stan Marsh**: Why did you want to fuck me?

**Craig Tucker**: Because I was horny?

**Craig Tucker**: Isn't that obvious?

**Stan Marsh**: No, you only do that the first time, not the last three.

**Craig Tucker**: There was only three moments

**Stan Marsh**: …yeah, whatever.

**Stan Marsh**: You kept trying over like three days, why?

**Craig Tucker**: I'm pretty sure it was only the last day, and I've already explained all this once

**Craig Tucker**: You really need to pay more attention

**Craig Tucker**: Do I have to go over it again?

**Stan Marsh**: Your explanation doesn't make any sense.

**Stan Marsh**: you get horny for a second, not a whole day.

**Craig Tucker**: Sure it does

**Craig Tucker**: Okay, let me fucking map this out so you stop being a drama queen about it

**Craig Tucker**: The first time, I was only being an ass because you asked me if I wanted to mess around. I didn't think you'd actually try turning me on, even if I challenged you, but you did. So that was completely you.

**Craig Tucker**: And the second time, I was pissed off because you walked away, so I was going to do the same thing to you, but you beat me to it.

**Stan Marsh**: …but if you hate me, why were you turned on.

**Craig Tucker**: Because bodies react like that; your body doesn't care who it is

**Stan Marsh**: What I don't understand is who pins someone who is naked.

**Stan Marsh**: Naked.

**Stan Marsh**: Mine doesn't.

**Stan Marsh**: …I mean, sure.

**Stan Marsh**: Ignore that comment

**Craig Tucker**: …then why were /you/ tuned on?

**Stan Marsh**: Must've thought of Wendy

**Craig Tucker**: Right, clearly

**Stan Marsh**: yep

**Craig Tucker**: Anyway, why do you care?

**Craig Tucker**: I'm a teenager, I can get horny whenever I want

**Craig Tucker**: It's like… part of being 18

**Stan Marsh**: sure.

**Craig Tucker**: Any more questions that I can answer for the billionth time?

**Craig Tucker**: Because I'm sick of being interrogated

**Stan Marsh**: sure

**Stan Marsh**: You have a crush on me.

**Craig Tucker**: No I don't; why are you bringing this up again?

**Stan Marsh**: Because it's obvious, haha.

**Craig Tucker**: I like Kenny, asshole

**Craig Tucker**: That's why I'm dating him

**Craig Tucker**: Not you

**Stan Marsh**: You know how I told you at the start of your relationship with ken

**Stan Marsh**: that i would punch you in your fucking face if you break his heart

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah, I remember, it was a stupid threat

**Stan Marsh**: Tonight he got so depressed I had to talk him out of it

**Stan Marsh**: If you repeat this to him, I will fucking punch you when we're back in school

**Stan Marsh**: But he was going to break up with you, and I said, no.

**Craig Tucker**: …I kind of figured.

**Stan Marsh**: So straighten your fucking shit out Tucker.

**Craig Tucker**: Don't act like I'm the only one who did something wrong here; you cheated on your girlfriend, too.

**Craig Tucker**: And I already feel like complete shit

**Craig Tucker**: So just stop talking about Kenny, alright?

**Craig Tucker**: The look on his face

**Craig Tucker**: When I told him what happened

**Craig Tucker**: Near killed me

**Stan Marsh**: Why did we do anything at all.

**Craig Tucker**: I don't know

**Craig Tucker**: Starvation

**Craig Tucker**: Oxygen depravation

**Craig Tucker**: Tiredness

**Craig Tucker**: Anything

**Stan Marsh**: or maybe because it was incredibly fun

**Craig Tucker**: If you think so

**Stan Marsh**: you don't think so?

**Craig Tucker**: At the time …yeah, otherwise I would have done it

**Craig Tucker**: It was competitive

**Craig Tucker**: And stuff

**Stan Marsh**: at the time, I was bored as hell. I really didn't expect you to take it that far. that's why I hate you even more now.

**Stan Marsh**: I don't know why you even helped me

**Stan Marsh**: fucking dick move

**Craig Tucker**: Don't fucking ask for help if you don't want it

**Craig Tucker**: It's not my fault that I didn't know you were a virgin; otherwise I would have stayed away

**Stan Marsh**: …so you can't fuck virgins?

**Stan Marsh**: is that some sort of rule I don't know about? It doesn't change, it's still cheating.

**Craig Tucker**: Not with you, no

**Craig Tucker**: There's no way

**Craig Tucker**: I would have taken your virginity

**Craig Tucker**: That's just

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Craig Tucker**: Not something I want to associate with

**Stan Marsh**: uh-huh.

**Stan Marsh**: so you wouldn't repeat what happened

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Craig Tucker**: Why?

**Stan Marsh**: really.

**Stan Marsh**: I don't get you.

**Craig Tucker**: What's there to get?

**Craig Tucker**: I thought what happened was all situational

**Craig Tucker**: Why would I do it again?

**Stan Marsh**: you thought it was situational? was there ever a time you thought it wasn't?

**Craig Tucker**: Of course not

**Stan Marsh**: Then it's not "i thought"

**Craig Tucker**: It was meant to be a question retard

**Craig Tucker**: Like why are you even asking?

**Stan Marsh**: then add a fucking question mark

**Craig Tucker**: I'm sorry my punctuation isn't good enough for you.

**Craig Tucker**: Did you not think it was or something? What's with all the questions?

**Stan Marsh**: why do you keep asking why the questions

**Stan Marsh**: When half the time you're fucking asking the same thing

**Stan Marsh**: no, here. this is what you want to see

**Stan Marsh**: omggggggggggggggggggg I love you Craig, you're my soulmate, marry me.

**Stan Marsh**: there you go.

**Craig Tucker**: All I'm doing is answering your stupid questions

**Craig Tucker**: And I want to know why

**Craig Tucker**: Because if there's no reason, I'm going to stop answering them

**Stan Marsh**: it's because I loooooooove you

**Craig Tucker**: You're an ass

**Stan Marsh**: you looooooove it

**Craig Tucker**: Ugh, fuck you

**Craig Tucker**: Don't you have something better to be doing?

**Stan Marsh**: like school work?

**Stan Marsh**: nope.

**Stan Marsh**: spending all my time talking to you because i looooooooooooooove you

**Craig Tucker**: I'm kind of starting to think so

**Craig Tucker**: Which is making me want to sign off

**Stan Marsh**: hahah

**Craig Tucker**: Why else would you have gotten all serious and started asking me all these "Why were you horny?" and "It was all situational, right?" and other BS like that

**Stan Marsh**: because I looooooooooove you.

**Craig Tucker**: Okay.

**Stan Marsh**:25 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_lz820vw8cW1roi1njo1_500 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker**: This again, huh?

**Craig Tucker**: I don't even care.

**Stan Marsh**: 27 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_lyd5burAbg1r2qxmeo1_500 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker**: Ha. Ha. You're funny.

**Stan Marsh**: I think so

**Craig Tucker**: Congratulations on making yourself laugh

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=YkeKen39fuk

**Craig Tucker**: You wouldn't let me anyway because you're a fucking cock tease virgin

**Stan Marsh**: yep

**Craig Tucker**: You have a lot of fucking mood swings

**Craig Tucker**: Are you on your period?

**Craig Tucker**: Bipolar?

**Craig Tucker**: Going through menopause?

**Stan Marsh**: I play my hating you by ear. what annoys you the most at any particular second, I go with that.

**Craig Tucker**: Right, well at the moment I'm just irritated with life, so good luck with that

**Stan Marsh**: why's that?

**Craig Tucker**: Does it matter?

**Craig Tucker**: I don't need to tell you about my life

**Stan Marsh**: go ahead

**Stan Marsh**: who am I going to tell

**Craig Tucker**: You're not going to tell anyone because I have no reason to tell you

**Stan Marsh**: so are you into women at all?

**Craig Tucker**: Yes

**Craig Tucker**: What the fuck kind of question is that?

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=MS85VDrJF7c

**Craig Tucker**: Now you're sending me dulled porn? What the actual fuck is with you?

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=xsR2-Tpsqqc ?

**Craig Tucker**: I don't even want to know what you're trying to do here, so I'm going to wait until you're done.

**Stan Marsh**: i'm done.

**Craig Tucker**: No you're not; you'll always be an asshole

**Stan Marsh**: oh, no. that I'm not done with.

**Craig Tucker**: Figured

**Stan Marsh**: do you want to go to the animal shelter with me to get a guinea pig?

**Craig Tucker**: Why would you even invite me to that?

**Stan Marsh**: is that a yes or no?

**Craig Tucker**: Go with someone who likes you

**Stan Marsh**: All right

**Craig Tucker**: Why would you even want me to go with you?

**Stan Marsh**: idk

**Craig Tucker**: We'd probably end up fighting and break the damn guinea pig

**Stan Marsh**: possibly

**Craig Tucker**: What do you mean possibly? Every time we've ever seen each other, we've fought

**Stan Marsh**: yep

**Stan Marsh**: I don't really know how to hold a guinea pig

**Craig Tucker**: You just pick it up

**Craig Tucker**: And hold it

**Stan Marsh**: wow.

**Stan Marsh**: let me guess, you just feed it 'stuff', huh.

**Craig Tucker**: Yep, that's right

**Stan Marsh**: you're so much help

**Stan Marsh**: thanks.

**Craig Tucker**: You feed it guinea pig pellets, retard

**Craig Tucker**: And Timothy hay

**Craig Tucker**: And rodent blocks to keep its teeth filed

**Stan Marsh**: okay

**Craig Tucker**: And you just pick it up like…

**Craig Tucker**: In both hands

**Craig Tucker**: Around it's middle

**Craig Tucker**: And hold it in your arms

**Craig Tucker**: Or on your chest or something

**Stan Marsh**: okay

**Stan Marsh**: so you don't want to go?

**Craig Tucker**: Not with you

**Craig Tucker**: But I might go to see the guineas

**Craig Tucker**: By myself

**Stan Marsh**: want to meet up tomorrow then

**Stan Marsh**: by coincidence

**Craig Tucker**: No, I don't

**Craig Tucker**: But I'll probably be there

**Stan Marsh**: okay

**Stan Marsh**: i was thinking if they have one, adopting a pregnant guinea pig.

**Stan Marsh**: then giving ike one of the babies

**Stan Marsh**: saves more animals

**Craig Tucker**: What are you going to do with the rest?

**Stan Marsh**: probably keep them or find them homes

**Craig Tucker**: Do you even know how to take care of them?

**Stan Marsh**: not really. I'll figure it out

**Craig Tucker**: You don't even know how to hold it

**Craig Tucker**: Or what to feed it

**Craig Tucker**: When it's called "Guinea Pig Pellets"

**Craig Tucker**: I don't think you can handle babies

**Craig Tucker**: But that's just my opinion

**Stan Marsh**: yeah.

**Craig Tucker**: I swear to God if you call me with some kind of guinea pig emergency, I'm going to punch you in the head

**Craig Tucker**: Because that's not a reason to get a guinea pig

**Stan Marsh**: I'll keep fuckface on speed dial then

**Craig Tucker**: You're such an unbelievable bitch

**Craig Tucker**: Like I can't believe your bitch-itude

**Stan Marsh**: why?

**Craig Tucker**: You're just such a fucking woman

**Craig Tucker**: That it's hard to fathom

**Stan Marsh**: I'm not a woman.

**Craig Tucker**: "Come to the pet store with me; I don't want to go aloneeeee"

**Craig Tucker**: "Help me figure out how to hold it"

**Craig Tucker**: "I want babiessssss"

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah

**Craig Tucker**: Not a woman

**Stan Marsh**: i can go alone.

**Craig Tucker**: Then why did you ask me?

**Craig Tucker**: I bet you didn't even ask anyone else before me, did you?

**Stan Marsh**: nope

**Craig Tucker**: Then go alone

**Stan Marsh**: yep

**Craig Tucker**: I won't be there

**Craig Tucker**: I'll go a different day

**Stan Marsh**: sure you won't

**Craig Tucker**: Why would I go? So I can watch you look like a fool when you can't pick it up?

**Craig Tucker**: Nope

**Stan Marsh**: actually, I'm just pulling your leg

**Stan Marsh**: but I am getting a guinea pig

**Stan Marsh**: probably a pregnant one

**Craig Tucker**: How so? Because nothing about this is even remotely funny, so it was a bad joke

**Stan Marsh**: asking you to go

**Stan Marsh**: The last thing I'd want is to pick up a pet with you.

**Stan Marsh**: that'd like be adopting a kid together. no.

**Craig Tucker**: Why is that a joke then? What if I'd said yes, then you'd feel like a dumbass

**Stan Marsh**: no, then I would have scheduled a time and not shown up

**Craig Tucker**: You're such a dick

**Stan Marsh**: yeah. so are you.

**Craig Tucker**: So because I'm a dick you send me to a pet store by myself? Big scary trick there; I hate the pet store

**Stan Marsh**: it's the shelter. and no. you're a dick because you were born that way.

**Craig Tucker**: I didn't explain why I was a dick; I explained why you were tricking me

**Craig Tucker**: You're so fucking stupod

**Stan Marsh**: yeah, I'm really fucking stupod.

**Stan Marsh**: let me get on my stupod horse and ride into the sunsot.

**Craig Tucker**: You're an ass; I don't have the energy to type properly

**Stan Marsh**: why?

**Stan Marsh**: not enough pain killers

**Craig Tucker**: Because we almost starved to death?

**Stan Marsh**: wuss

**Stan Marsh**: you're going to be milking that for weeks

**Craig Tucker**: You can't tell me you aren't sxhausted

**Stan Marsh**: no I'm sxhausted all right

**Craig Tucker**: exhausted*

**Stan Marsh**: I'm just not making excuses for being lazy.

**Craig Tucker**: Fuck you

**Stan Marsh**: fuck you with a jackhammer.

**Craig Tucker**: Stop giving me specific things to fuck myself with; it makes me feel like you're /watching/

**Stan Marsh**: fuck yourself with a mace, tucker.

**Stan Marsh**: or maybe a mallet.

**Craig Tucker**: More images for the S/M spank bank, eh? You're gross

**Stan Marsh**: nope.

**Stan Marsh**: interesting though

**Stan Marsh**: you must be into that if you know about such a thing

**Stan Marsh**:: i have to go to bed, because I'm going to sleep instead of complain like a bitch.

**Stan Marsh**: goodnight

**Craig Tucker**: Right, good to know I was the last thing you thought of before you went to bed

**Stan Marsh**: yep

**Stan Marsh**: love you

**Craig Tucker**: Good night, sweetie-kins

**Stan Marsh**: sleep well, snoogums

**Craig Tucker**: Fucking go to bed, assmunch

**Stan Marsh**: But I love you so much, fuckface

**Stan Marsh**: I can't leave the sight of your chatbox on my screen

**Craig Tucker**: I know, that's why you're still talking to me

**Craig Tucker**: Instead of sleeping

**Stan Marsh**: yeah

**Stan Marsh**: I lose sleep over you

**Craig Tucker**: I know that, you don't have to tell me

**Craig Tucker**: I'm damn sexy; who wouldn't lose sleep over me?

**Stan Marsh**: totally.

**Craig Tucker**: You can't help but to picture me holding you up against that wall

**Craig Tucker**: And it doesn't let you get to sleep

**Stan Marsh**: actually what gets me off is imagining you on top of me saying "well?"

**Craig Tucker**: Ah, right, that too.

**Craig Tucker**: I tried pretty hard during that moment

**Craig Tucker**: It's good to know it went to good use

**Stan Marsh**: killer sex face

**Craig Tucker**: I /always/ have a killer face

**Craig Tucker**: But you'd already know that, because you stare at it all the time

**Craig Tucker**: And you think it's pointy

**Stan Marsh**: Yep

**Craig Tucker**: Go wank and go to sleep

**Craig Tucker**: You said you were going like 6 minutes ago

**Stan Marsh**: how did you know?

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=4RQFhn70WLs

**Craig Tucker**: Don't kid yourself; you're 100% queer

**Craig Tucker**: I have quite an accurate gaydar

**Stan Marsh**: you wish

**Craig Tucker**: I have a boyfriend; why would I wish?

**Stan Marsh**: who knows

**Craig Tucker**: Oh, and it totally makes sense to tell me not to hurt Kenny, and then turn around and try to get me into you

**Craig Tucker**: Logic

**Stan Marsh**: I just like fucking with you.

**Stan Marsh**: Because it's amusing

**Craig Tucker**: So that's an excuse for you, but not for me?

**Stan Marsh**: if you ever touch me again I'll push you off a cliff.

**Craig Tucker**: Agreed.

**Craig Tucker**: I'll push myself off the cliff

**Stan Marsh**: good, saves me the work

**Craig Tucker**: You'd cry if I killed myself

**Craig Tucker**: Especially if it was because I hate you

**Stan Marsh**: hahahahahaha no, not really.

**Stan Marsh**:: I'd get an invite for the funeral and use it to clean up my dog's crap.

**Craig Tucker**: Charming

**Stan Marsh**: thought so

**Craig Tucker**: Going to bed yet? Or you still can't get enough of me?

**Stan Marsh**: yeah, going

**Craig Tucker**: Night, sweetums

**Stan Marsh**: night, honey

**Craig Tucker**:

**Stan Marsh**:

**Craig Tucker**: ~

**Stan Marsh**: ohhh, you're so kawaiiiiiiiiiiiiii craiggy poo

**Craig Tucker**: Okay, I'm going to vomit now; go the fuck to bed

**Stan Marsh**: oh

**Stan Marsh**: so I should call you craiggy poo?

**Craig Tucker**: If I can call you Stanley Shine~

**Stan Marsh**: awww craiggy you do care

**Craig Tucker**: Okay, this is really disturbing me

**Stan Marsh**: i win

**Craig Tucker**: In all honesty

**Stan Marsh**: bye

**Craig Tucker**: Can we go back to "Fucker" instead of "Sweetie"

**Stan Marsh**: ….nope. night sweetie-kins

**Craig Tucker**: I don't like this game

**Craig Tucker**: At all

**Stan Marsh**: aww craiggy poo don't hate the game because you suck at it

**Craig Tucker**: Yes. I suck at it.

**Stan Marsh**: great big donkey balls. :)

**Craig Tucker**: What even

**Craig Tucker**: Go to sleep

**Stan Marsh**: That's what you suck

**Stan Marsh**: night

**Craig Tucker**: You're delusional

**Stan Marsh**: you're in loooooooooove

**Craig Tucker**: No, you're in love, and it's making my skin crawl

**Craig Tucker**: Go away

**Stan Marsh**: mission accomplished.


	5. 05 08 2012

05.08.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh**: …

**Craig Tucker**: Don't even say it

**Craig Tucker**: It's not happening

**Stan Marsh**: I can't be kicked off the football team

**Stan Marsh**: we have to do it

**Craig Tucker**: Boo fucking hoo

**Craig Tucker**: What do I care if you're on the team?

**Stan Marsh**: Goddamnit just

**Stan Marsh**: It's for a minute

**Stan Marsh**: and a half

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Craig Tucker**: That was a 5:00 video

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: he put times next to it

**Stan Marsh**: It's only a minute and a half

**Stan Marsh**: Come on

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: please

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: please.

**Craig Tucker**: No.

**Stan Marsh**: I'll do anything in exchange dude

**Stan Marsh**: seriously

**Craig Tucker**: Not happening

**Stan Marsh**: goddamnit craig

**Craig Tucker**: There's no way I'm doing that with you

**Craig Tucker**: Ever

**Stan Marsh**: Goddamnit you're going to fail too

**Craig Tucker**: I don't care

**Craig Tucker**: And Christophe blackmails the school

**Craig Tucker**: So I don't even feel bad for failing him

**Stan Marsh**: ugh

**Craig Tucker**: Fuck the football team; season's almost over anyway

**Stan Marsh**: I won't get a fucking scholarship if I'm dropped from the team

**Craig Tucker**: What reason do I have to care?

**Craig Tucker**: I hate you.

**Stan Marsh**: you're a fucking douche.

**Craig Tucker**: Fine, give me one good fucking reason to do it

**Craig Tucker**: One good fucking reason

**Stan Marsh**: I don't have one

**Craig Tucker**: Then I'm not doing it

**Craig Tucker**: Good luck failing

**Stan Marsh**: what do you want me to say?

**Stan Marsh**: seriously

**Craig Tucker**: The point is that there's nothing you could offer me that's good enough to do this

**Craig Tucker**: So no matter what, I don't have to do it

**Stan Marsh**: dude, if this fails me from the team, I'd have an orgy with you and kenny and the rest of the football team if that's what keeps me on it.

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: ok, if you do it

**Stan Marsh**: I'll tell you the truth about the weekend in the locker room

**Craig Tucker**: I don't want to know that badly

**Stan Marsh**: sure you don't

**Craig Tucker**: And you offering me that implies that you were lying before

**Craig Tucker**: So I already know the truth

**Stan Marsh**: Yep

**Stan Marsh**: Never will know for sure then

**Craig Tucker**: I don't care

**Stan Marsh**: sure you don't

**Craig Tucker**: Why would I care?

**Stan Marsh**: because you were asking all night yesterday

**Craig Tucker**: Because I was being annoying

**Craig Tucker**: What would I even do with the information?

**Stan Marsh**: After telling me the truth? I doubt it.

**Craig Tucker**: It means nothing to me

**Stan Marsh**: sure it doesn't

**Craig Tucker**: I don't even care what you say; I'm not doing the fucking project

**Stan Marsh**: goddamnit why not?

**Craig Tucker**: You /watched/ the video right?

**Stan Marsh**: no

**Craig Tucker**: Go watch it

**Craig Tucker**: Then tell me you still want to do it

**Stan Marsh**: …..

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah, exactly

**Stan Marsh**: no

**Stan Marsh**: just no

**Stan Marsh**: jfc

**Craig Tucker**: That's why I'm not doing it, dumbass

**Stan Marsh**: …

**Stan Marsh**: what if everyone in the class failed

**Craig Tucker**: Then we all fail

**Craig Tucker**: What the Hell kind of question is that

**Stan Marsh**: no, if we all fail then garrison gets reviewed for failing everyone in the class

**Stan Marsh**: and then the project is thrown out and we pass

**Stan Marsh**: will you at least fail to do the scene at all with me?

**Craig Tucker**: No, we fail if we don't do it anyway

**Craig Tucker**: Why would I even attempt it?

**Stan Marsh**: to show up to class. If we attend and try the school board has to pass us

**Craig Tucker**: No, that's fucking stupid

**Stan Marsh**: goddamnit

**Stan Marsh**: okay, you know what you shit head?

**Craig Tucker**: Why would they care if we tried?

**Craig Tucker**: If we failed anyway?

**Stan Marsh**: I didn't want to stop in the locker room. there. I said it.

**Craig Tucker**: So what? I don't care

**Stan Marsh**: Sure you don't

**Craig Tucker**: And I'm still not doing it

**Stan Marsh**: I don't care

**Stan Marsh**: I'm going to go drink

**Stan Marsh**: fuck you

**Craig Tucker**: Have fun with that, asshole

**Stan Marsh**: yeah, will

**Craig Tucker**: Hope someone else picks you up off the fucking pavement

**Stan Marsh**: hopefully I off myself with mouth wash this time

**Craig Tucker**: Smart

**Stan Marsh**: yep

**Craig Tucker**: If you killed yourself Kenny would get so fucking depressed. And then I'd have to fucking kill you.

**Stan Marsh**: again?

**Stan Marsh**: fuck you. I can do what I want.

**Craig Tucker**: You're right; go do that

**Stan Marsh**: admit you care

**Craig Tucker**: Why would I care?

**Stan Marsh**: Because you do

**Stan Marsh**: admit it

**Craig Tucker**: I don't

**Stan Marsh**: You do

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Craig Tucker**: Have fun in the gutter

**Stan Marsh**: fuck you tucker

**Craig Tucker**: Thanks; I'll be here in my warm house, enjoying not acting out gay skits with you

**Stan Marsh**: right

**Stan Marsh**: fuck you.

**Craig Tucker**: What; you're not happy that I stopped responding?

**Stan Marsh**: no.

**Craig Tucker**: Go drink; what does it matter

* * *

**Stan Marsh**: *phone rings

**Craig Tucker**: The fuck…? Ugh. -ignores-

**Stan Marsh**: *redials

**Craig Tucker**: -ignores again-

**Stan Marsh**: *redials

**Craig Tucker**: Really? -ignores-

**Stan Marsh**: *redials

**Craig Tucker**: Fuck all. -answers- What the fuck do you want?

**Stan Marsh**: You're a fucking bastard and I don't know why the fuck I have feelings for you. Fuck you. *hangs up

**Craig Tucker**: …? - redials-

**Stan Marsh**: *pushes ignore

**Craig Tucker**: What a dick. -redials-

**Stan Marsh**: *pushes ignore

**Craig Tucker**: -redials-

**Stan Marsh**: *pushes ignore

**Craig Tucker**: Ugh, what the fuck. -redials-

**Stan Marsh**: Guh fucking idiot. *pushes ignore

**Craig Tucker**: This can go on for hours, stupid dick. -redials-

**Stan Marsh**: *pushes ignore

**Craig Tucker**: -redials-

**Stan Marsh**: I don't want to hear his fucking voice goddamnit..*pushes ignore

**Craig Tucker**: -redials-

**Stan Marsh**: *answers but stays quiet

**Craig Tucker**: What the fuck was that?

**Stan Marsh**: What was what.

**Craig Tucker**: That fucking phone call; don't play this fucking game.

**Stan Marsh**: I don't remember.

**Craig Tucker**: You fucking remember.

**Stan Marsh**: Don't.

**Craig Tucker**: Don't be a dick.

**Stan Marsh**: Too late.

**Craig Tucker**: Ugh, why do I even care what you said? Fuck you. -hangs up-

**Stan Marsh**: Wait, what? Goddamnit, no wonder people invented computers. This is fucking annoying. *redials

**Craig Tucker**: -ignores with text- Stop fucking calling me fuck you

**Stan Marsh**: *redials

**Craig Tucker**: -ignores-

**Stan Marsh**: *redials

**Craig Tucker**: -ignores-

**Stan Marsh**: *redials

**Craig Tucker**: -turns off phone-

**Stan Marsh**: *redials* Voicemail? What the fuck. *hangs up and gets off the computer, intending to walk to Craig's house.

* * *

After throwing on his jacket and shoes, he shut the front door and started walking down the street. It took him two blocks to reach Craig's house, and he angrily pounded on the front door, not caring who saw.

_She sits on the couch, watching some old sitcom on TV, when she hears a pounding on the door. She groans and waits for someone else to answer it. When no one does, she sighs and rises to go do it herself. When she opens the door, she's surprised to see Stan Marsh standing there. Of all the people it could have been; why him? What business does he have here? "Uh… can I help you?" she asks, genuinely confused._

"I need to see Craig. Where is he at?" Stan said immediately, looking into the house as if Craig were hiding around the corner telling Ruby to open the door so he didn't have to look at him. He figured that would be something Craig was low enough to do after saying something stupid like he did.

_She raises an interested brow. Don't Craig and Stan hate each other? Are they going to fight? She doesn't think her parents would really appreciate her letting him in, if that's the case… But then again, Craig probably deserves to get hit a few times if Stan is actually here. "Yeah, he's upstairs, in his room," she says, opening the door more and moving aside to let him in._

"Upstairs where?" Stan inquired, not really wanting to go in every room in their house just to locate stupid Craig. With his luck, he'd run into the bathroom on him or something like that.

"I don't want to walk in the wrong room," He added, so she knew why he was asking. He seemed significantly less pissed when he looked at Ruby - after all she did nothing wrong, it was her brother pissing him off.

_She shuts the door after he's inside and look sup at him again. "Just follow me," she says, turning to walk away. She's not really concerned if he follows her or not, so she doesn't check. They reach a staircase and at the top there's a door. "It's the only room up there," she says. She wants to ask what he's there for, but she figures she'll hear about it from Craig later anyway, if it's that important, so she just walks away. "Have fun; you know he's an asshole, right?" she calls over her shoulder as she sits back on the couch._

"Yeah. I know. Thanks." He then started climbing the steps, wondering if Craig had heard him talking at the bottom of the steps. Without caring too much whether he announced himself or not, Stan took the last few steps and opened the door, but waited as he stared at Craig.

**Craig glares when he hears someone start to turn his door knob. Who the fuck would even be there? No one called or anything - oh. He glares harder when Stan appears in his door way. "Who the fuck let you in my house," he says. It's meant to be a question, but he doesn't have the time for inflections right now. Why is Stan there?**

"I'm here, so fucking deal with it." Stan said as he stepped inside, and then shut the door behind him carefully. His voice sounded abrasive, but he was shutting the door quietly, not wanting Ruby to Tumblr Stan coming over to the Tucker household and that he was yelling at him.

"Why did you care?"

**Craig doesn't understand why anything would ever be important enough for Stan to come to his **_**house**_**. That doesn't even happen when they get assigned to work on projects together - oh yeah, that's happening again too. Everything is starting to really piss Craig off, and he really doesn't want to see Stan right now. "Why did I care about what?" he spits, just annoyed. He doesn't even really think about what Stan could be referring to, because why is Stan **_**in his fucking house?**_

Stan was going to respond angrily, but he noticed a clicking noise from a bottle. Glancing over at where Stripe was in his cage, he briefly cast a look towards Craig and then walked over to the guinea pig's pen. Reaching over the edge he touched Stripe's back gently, not sure how much force one could use on a guinea pig without hurting them. Really, it looked like he might be afraid of breaking Stripe.

Well, if Craig was going to be a douche, he'd just ignore him. In his own room. Petting his guinea pig.

**Craig doesn't even know what to think when he sees Stan going to pet Stripe. The thought doesn't even cross Craig's mind that Stan might actually have the audacity to do that. So when Stan stoops down, the rage explodes in his chest. He storms over to the cage quickly and snatches Stan's hand away. He yanks Stan's hand high in the air, gripping it a lot harder than what's probably healthy, but he doesn't care. His eyes narrow to slits and he stares Stan down as he continues to hold Stan's hand away. "You don't fucking touch fucking Stripe. Only my **_**friends**_**can fucking do that." His voice is dark. No one touches Stripe without Craig's permission, **_**ever**_**.**

Stan jumps slightly when Craig swoops down like an angry hawk, snatching his hand and trying to kill it by gripping it. With a glare, he lets out a slightly heavy breath as he tries not to retaliate with force, and instead stares at Craig and says, "Let my fucking hand go." He didn't say it particularly threateningly, but he did look extremely peeved still.

"**How about you tell me why I shouldn't fucking break it instead?" he says, continuing to glare. He thinks he tightens his grip, but he was already so tight that he doesn't think it's even possible to tighten. "Get the fuck out of my fucking house."**

Stan closed his eyes for a second, really focusing on not trying to kill Craig in his own house. That wasn't how he wanted to end his already perfect day.

"I want to talk to you, so quit gripping my fucking hand. Jesus Christ."

**It takes everything in Craig to actually let go, and he does so extremely slowly. How can he trust this fucker to be in his room if he thinks it's okay to touch Stripe. "Yeah well I don't want to talk to you so get the fuck out. I have to give Stripe a bath now," he seethes, looking down at his poor abused pet.**

"Dude, just hear me out." Stan said after a moment, irritated with how dismissive Craig was being. At least he hadn't shoved him down the steps - he really didn't need to fall down steps after being beaten on all weekend.

"I-…well, …uh.." He tried beginning, but he was trying to think of how to word it so it wasn't so awkward. Which naturally made it increasingly awkward by the second.

"…uh."

**Craig stoops down to pet Stripe, who wheeks happily to receive attention from his daddy. "If you don't even have anything to say, then seriously, get the fuck out," he says. He does his best to continue to sound angry, but Stripe always calms him down near instantly. He scratches under Stripes chin and resists smiling at the response Stripe gives. No, he refuses to gush over his pet in front of Stan. Petting is one thing, gushing is another.**

Closely watching how Craig interacted with Stripe, Stan felt a plummeting sensation in his stomach. Maybe he googled and youtube'd too many animal pictures, or maybe he just liked animals too much but…damn, that was cute. And it almost revolted him that Craig was attached to the cuteness, but then again …well, maybe not so much anymore.

"I sort of…" It was difficult to say what he wanted to say, because all he could think of was, 'Craig's a mother fucking bastard'. "Ugh…you're a bastard."

**Craig scoffs, despite his being happy to play with Stripe. "You came all the way to my house to tell me that? I already fucking knew that," he says. He doesn't even care is Stan is in his room now; what's he going to do? There's nothing that Craig has to hide, and his only real rule has been established already, so who cares? If he continues to stay, Craig can just ignore him and go about his business. He reaches over to the mini fridge next to the cage and grabs out the little bag of carrots to feed one to Stripe. "Yeah, you hate strangers, don't you?" he mumbles as he gives Stripe the first carrot. Fucking Stan.**

"No…that wasn't it." Stan said as he watched Craig open the mini-fridge, narrowing his eyes as the other pulled out mini carrots. What the hell. Was he trying to be a prick? What a douchebag.

"The locker room. I'm sort of confused. Feelings."

It was the most fragmented sentence ever, but he didn't care. It was better then having a choppy sentence that never was finished because of his agitated nerves.

**Craig rolls his eyes, not believing it. After all, Stan's said he loves Craig in the past 24 hours as a joke, why wouldn't he say this, too? "Yeah, finally admitting you have a gay little mancrush on me?" he asks sarcastically. If this is all Stan was going to do, then why couldn't he just keep it up on AIM? On AIM it was easier to ignore.**

"You know what? Fuck you." Stan said as he turned, glaring at the door as he walked over and opened it.

"Fuck you with a cactus." Then he opened the door, stepped through to the steps, and swung it shut extremely hard. Standing on the other side, he stood there for a moment and then sighed as he started to walk down the steps.

"**Nice talking to you, Honey! Come again sometime, kay?" Craig calls after his door slams. He knows Stan will hear it; the hallway stairs echo like a mother fucker. He doesn't care anyway because what the fuck was that? Stan comes all the way to his house just to say 'you bastard' again? That was stupid. He gives Stripe a few more carrots before standing with a sigh. He puts the bag back in the fridge and stretches out his arms. He goes over to his bed and flops down onto it. Phone's off, computer's off, no one can talk to him. Everything is great.**

"Honey?" Stan said after a minute, stopping on the steps. Did he just hear Craig say that…that actually sounded pretty disturbing. Kind of like putting cute in the same sentence as axe-murder. With a glare over his shoulder, he turned and walked up the steps and opened the door, and then shut it behind him again. For a moment he stared at Craig as the other laid on his bed. No, he was going to make him suffer. Did he really think he was joking around? What a fucking douche.

He jogged towards Craig's bed, and then launched himself at the other and landed on the bed - surely he would either hit Craig somehow or send him bouncing.

**Craig turns his head when he hears the door open again, not expecting Stan to come back. Fucking seriously? This kid is relentless. Then Stan jogs for Craig's bed, and Craig's eyes actually widen a bit in surprise. What the fuck is he doing? Stan jumps and lands on top of him, and Craig is stunned for just a short second before he regains his composure again and shoves Stan off of him. He wasn't really thinking, though, and shoves him onto the other half of his bed instead of the floor. "What the actual fuck?" he asks, eyes narrowed and his voice a restrained yell. If his parents heard him yelling, he'd catch Hell. "Get off my bed and out of my goddamn house."**

Stan landed on the other side of the bed by using his arm to stabilize himself. He now was on his stomach, looking towards Craig's pillows. Actually, it was disgusting being on Craig's bed. There were probably more germs on it then the jockstrap locker room floor. Gross.

"Make me." He said instead of forming a proper response, realizing a little too late that provoking Craig never worked, and he really wasn't going to get anywhere by taunting the other boy.

**Craig scoffs, sitting up and glaring at Stan. He moves off his bed and turns back around. He grabs Stan by the arm and hauls him off the mattress. He drags him all the way over to the door before letting him go. "Don't make me fucking throw you down the stairs," he says, cocking his head toward the door once to indicate he wants Stan out. He crosses his arms over his chest, annoyed that Stan even knows where he lives. Fuck South Park for being so small. Why does Stan even keep talking to him? Why did Stan come all the way to his house just to start another fight? None of it makes any sense to Craig, and he just wants Stan the fuck out of his room. Hell, Stan can stay downstairs and watch TV with Ruby for all he cares, he just wants him out of his room.**

Stumbling over his feet as Craig dragged him off, he really didn't care - he expected Craig to force him out of his room. With a frown, he stared at Craig for a moment and then finally spoke.

"So when I woke up feeling like hell and I looked down on the floor and saw you lying there..I don't know. I usually have to call someone or I lay there wasted and alone. I..saw someone in there that I don't know. And I liked that guy. A lot." Stan looked at the floor, reaching for the doorknob.

"I..I don't know. I shouldn't be here." He twisted the door knob and then turned to leave.

**Craig stares back at Stan as he speaks, not really comprehending what he's saying. When Stan said it as a joke, that was okay, but this sounds… serious. Stan Likes him? A lot? He continues to watch Stan's eyes as Stan looks toward the floor, breaking their eye contact. Craig doesn't know what to say. Normally he'd criticize and accuse and put Stan down for it, but right now… he can't. He doesn't even want to. In fact, he doesn't know what he wants to do at all. When Stan turns to leave, he catches him by the wrist again, but it's not like any of the other times this has ever happened. It's… soft. He can't say anything about Stan's confession, because he doesn't know how to respond, but he, for whatever reason, feels the need to make Stan feel less shitty about this. "You, um… you want to play Left 4Dead?" he asks. He's not sure why he offers, and he wants to hit himself for it because that means Stan might stay, but fuck. Craig doesn't even know anymore. It feels like his brain has snapped some time in the past minute.**

Stan turned to look at Craig, an eyebrow raised. Really, did he just ask him to stay? He was starting to feel uneasy, and it wasn't like he wanted to stay. Actually, he had a great bottle of Jack Daniels in his dresser drawer, and he was going to go for it the second he walked in the house. His dad probably wouldn't notice, and his mom got rid of the alcohol when she cleaned his room - which was like once a year.

"No thanks," He said, not wanting to hint that he bought Left 4 Dead, made Kyle and Wendy play it, then quit - he never really got through it.

"I'm just going to go."

He looked down at his wrist though, waiting for Craig to let go.

**Craig lets his hand fall slow through the air. He's not sure why it hurts to have Stan say no, but it does. Fuck. "Yeah, okay. Um… get the fuck out. And stuff," he says, turning around and walking away from Stan. He flops back down onto his bed, face in his pillows, and acts like he's going to go to sleep. Maybe if he's sleeping, Stan can just leave in peace, and this whole weird moment can just go away with him. **

**Why didn't he harass Stan for saying he like him? Why didn't he hit him? Why didn't he just throw him down the stairs like he'd threatened? …why didn't he at least tell Stan no?**

"Bye, fuckface." Stan said softly as he twisted the door knob and then stepped out. Shutting the door quietly behind him, he walked down the steps slowly and stopped in the living room. He felt a little crushed somehow but he really didn't know why - it was stupid, right? Just situational, the whole thing.

"Thanks Ruby," He said as he turned and headed to the front door.

**Craig sighs when he hears his door click shut. He rolls onto his back and covers his face with his hands. What the fuck just happened? What does that even mean, STan likes him. Why would Stan like him? Craig has done nothing but be a huge dick to Stan; how does that even connect? Then again… Craig brings his hands off his face and rolls onto his side, staring at the spot Stan had just been laying. Ugh, he doesn't want to think about Stan. He doesn't even bother turning off the light or taking off his jeans, he just pulls his covers up over his head and shuts his eyes tight. Maybe a nap will clear his head. Yeah, he's just tired; that's why he didn't punch Stan. He hears Stripe wheek a few times, and he sighs again before actually trying to fall asleep.**


	6. 05 08 2012 a

05.08.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh**: ..hey craig.

**Craig Tucker**: What?

**Stan Marsh**: is kenny still down?

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah, he is

**Stan Marsh**: ok

**Craig Tucker**: Why does that even matter to you?

**Stan Marsh**:..what do you mean.

**Stan Marsh**: He's my best friend

**Stan Marsh**: I'm going to be worried about him

**Craig Tucker**: Then ask him

**Stan Marsh**: I am, he's being quiet

**Stan Marsh**: he didn't respond to the almost-porn I sent him

**Craig Tucker**: Why are you sending my fucking boyfriend porn?

**Stan Marsh**:…because that's what we do?

**Stan Marsh**: dude

**Stan Marsh**: it's called being a guy

**Craig Tucker**: Right, well.

**Stan Marsh**: well?

**Stan Marsh**: okay, craig.

**Stan Marsh**: I'll send you the almost-porn too.

**Craig Tucker**: I don't want it

**Stan Marsh**: you sure?

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah; I don't need it.

**Stan Marsh**: ok

**Craig Tucker**: So what's the real reason you IMed me? You obviously knew Kenny was down if you were talking to him; you didn't need me to tell you.

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=dQw4w9WgXcQ

**Craig Tucker**: Nope

**Craig Tucker**: Not clicking anything

**Stan Marsh**: why not

**Craig Tucker**: Because you said you were going to send me porn

**Stan Marsh**: oh, that's not porn

**Craig Tucker**: And last time you Rick Rolled me

**Stan Marsh**: haha

**Craig Tucker**: Don't laugh, dick

**Stan Marsh**: ha. ha.

**Craig Tucker**: Rick Rolling is a serious matter

**Stan Marsh**: yeah

**Stan Marsh**: like murder

**Craig Tucker**: Exactly

**Craig Tucker**: So don't laugh

**Stan Marsh**: or bird flu

**Stan Marsh**: or cancer

**Craig Tucker**: Okay

**Stan Marsh**: because I know when someone I know gets rick rolled, I'm scarred for life

**Craig Tucker**: This one is cuter www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=dl8kJDN8nM4

**Stan Marsh**: …do you like anime or something

**Craig Tucker**: Sometimes

**Stan Marsh**: so how often do you think of me?

**Craig Tucker**: Whenever you're fucking IMing me

**Craig Tucker**: Which is all the fucking time because you're a dick

**Stan Marsh**: haha

**Craig Tucker**: Seriously, you talk to me way too much

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=wXHreMfchFY

**Craig Tucker**: I told you I'm not clicking anything

**Stan Marsh**: just do it

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: it's cute.

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: it's not a rick roll.

**Stan Marsh**: it's a song.

**Stan Marsh**: I think you should listen to it.

**Craig Tucker**: No, I don't care

**Craig Tucker**: I got enough of that yesterday

**Stan Marsh**: do it

**Craig Tucker**: Don't tell me what to do

**Stan Marsh**: don't open it then

**Craig Tucker**: If it's so important, why don't you just tell me what it is

**Stan Marsh**: it's a song

**Stan Marsh**: by hellogoodbye

**Craig Tucker**: And…?

**Stan Marsh**: …am I supposed to make it do tricks?

**Craig Tucker**: Why do I care about Hellogoodbye?

**Stan Marsh**: It's the song

**Stan Marsh**: did you listen to it?

**Craig Tucker**: No, I didn't

**Craig Tucker**: I don't want to

**Stan Marsh**: do it.

**Craig Tucker**: Make me

**Stan Marsh**: Okay

**Stan Marsh**: be over in like ten

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Craig Tucker**: I'm locking my bedroom door

**Stan Marsh**: I'll ram into it

**Craig Tucker**: And putting Stripe in a glass bubble

**Craig Tucker**: You're /that/ determined to make me listen to a damn song?

**Craig Tucker**: Is it a gay love song or something?

**Stan Marsh**: maybe

**Craig Tucker**: No, I'm not fucking opening it

**Stan Marsh**: your loss

**Craig Tucker**: Not really

**Stan Marsh**: so have you opened it yet

**Craig Tucker**: Nope

**Craig Tucker**: Not going to

**Stan Marsh**: come onnnnn

**Stan Marsh**: open it

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=wXHreMfchFY

**Stan Marsh**: look there's the link again

**Stan Marsh**: how about that

**Craig Tucker**: Why is it so important?

**Stan Marsh**: it's cute

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah, so is your mom.

**Stan Marsh**: tucker, stop looking at my mom

**Craig Tucker**: Why? You jealous?

**Stan Marsh**: …dude

**Craig Tucker**: What?

**Stan Marsh**: god what is it with people and my parents tonight

**Stan Marsh**: clyde was trying to pair kevin up with my dad and now you're eye-raping my mom

**Craig Tucker**: Hahaha, no way

**Craig Tucker**: Did Clyde do that?

**Stan Marsh**: yes

**Craig Tucker**: I'm going to have to buy him that taco after all

**Stan Marsh**: you suck

**Craig Tucker**: No, actually, I don't

**Craig Tucker**: It's not a favor I offer often

**Stan Marsh**: …

**Stan Marsh**: i don't want to think about that

**Craig Tucker**: Sure you don't

**Stan Marsh**: nope

**Craig Tucker**: Then stop

**Stan Marsh**: …stop what

**Craig Tucker**: Stop thinking about it

**Stan Marsh**: I'm not

**Craig Tucker**: Uh-huh

**Stan Marsh**: I'm not

**Craig Tucker**: I believe you. Really.

**Stan Marsh**: bastard

**Stan Marsh**: you're just thinking about me doing it.

**Craig Tucker**: Not really; I don't need you to do it

**Craig Tucker**: I have a boyfriend

**Stan Marsh**: yep

**Stan Marsh**: didn't stop you in the locker room

**Craig Tucker**: That wasn't even a whole thought

**Stan Marsh**: …whole what

**Craig Tucker**: thought

**Craig Tucker**: You said "Didn't you stop in the locker room"

**Craig Tucker**: Incomplete thought

**Stan Marsh**: Didn't STOP you in the locker room

**Stan Marsh**: insinuating you went after my dick

**Craig Tucker**: I did go after you dick. At the time, my boyfriend couldn't be around to help me

**Craig Tucker**: And you were all over me

**Craig Tucker**: So what was I supposed to do

**Stan Marsh**: …not go for my dick

**Craig Tucker**: Right, while you were after mine

**Stan Marsh**: that was after you kept shotgunning me

**Stan Marsh**: that was all you.

**Craig Tucker**: Okay, but you forget that you started the whole thing by asking me and climbing into my lap. The thought never would have even crossed my mind if it weren't for that.

**Stan Marsh**: …I said make out.

**Stan Marsh**: okay, I admit

**Stan Marsh**: I said make out

**Stan Marsh**: But that didn't involve my ass or dick in any way.

**Craig Tucker**: You said "mess around"

**Craig Tucker**: That could mean anything

**Stan Marsh**: dude not that

**Stan Marsh**: what kind of messing around do you do

**Craig Tucker**: Depends on the day and the person, and my relationship status

**Stan Marsh**: well I didn't mean that far. god.

**Craig Tucker**: Please. You can't honestly tell me you weren't thinking about it the instant you crawled into my lap. When you were kissing me. Biting me. Never crossed you mind that that's what I might want after that?

**Stan Marsh**: no, because we're both taken.

**Craig Tucker**: Right, so Wendy just lets you make out with people?

**Stan Marsh**: …

**Stan Marsh**: that's none of your business

**Craig Tucker**: It's my business if I'm the one you were making out with

**Stan Marsh**: sometimes

**Craig Tucker**: Sometimes what?

**Stan Marsh**: I don't want to talk to you about it

**Stan Marsh**: this is my personal shit. I don't want to talk about it. especially not with you.

**Craig Tucker**: Then don't tell me.

**Craig Tucker**: I was only saying that it's a poor excuse

**Craig Tucker**: "Hey, we're both taken. Let's make out and put effort into turning each other on, and then /not/ go any further because we're in relationships."

**Craig Tucker**: That makes sense

**Craig Tucker**: Because that was your original goal, right?

**Craig Tucker**: To turn me on?

**Stan Marsh**: well, yeah.

**Stan Marsh**: But why go further

**Craig Tucker**: Because why would you try to give someone a fucking boner and then not expect it?

**Craig Tucker**: That's fucking retarded

**Stan Marsh**: because I hated you at the time.

**Stan Marsh**: why not.

**Craig Tucker**: Because that's a disgustingly dick move

**Stan Marsh**: yeah. I think we already established we're both dicks.

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah, but I've never been /that/ much of a dick to you.

**Craig Tucker**: That's just taking things too far

**Stan Marsh**: sure it is

**Craig Tucker**: Whatever; if you believe it was justified, then I'm not going to talk to you.

**Stan Marsh**: okay, so maybe after shotgunning I was trying to not get turned on.

**Stan Marsh**: The previous times, yeah, I was pissed off at you.

**Stan Marsh**: but you probably wouldn't have been denied three times if I wasn't

**Stan Marsh**: you know

**Craig Tucker**: Okay, say that in an understandable sentence

**Stan Marsh**: goddamnit

**Stan Marsh**: no

**Craig Tucker**: Because I'm not even sure what I just read

**Stan Marsh**: I'm not saying it again

**Craig Tucker**: Fine.

**Stan Marsh**: how many times do I have to word I was fucking turned on by you and wanted you to do me

**Craig Tucker**: Well, you've never actually said that until just now

**Craig Tucker**: …

**Stan Marsh**: …

**Craig Tucker**: …not that I care anymore, but why did we stop then?

**Stan Marsh**: I'm not typing it

**Craig Tucker**: Right.

**Stan Marsh**: Did you really want to know?

**Craig Tucker**: That's why I asked, dumbass.

**Craig Tucker**: But if you're going to be difficult, then I don't care

**Stan Marsh**: you're the laziest person I know.

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah, well you're a bitch, and I don't feel like dealing with you when you're being difficult

**Stan Marsh**: Fine.

**Stan Marsh**: I was scared.

**Stan Marsh**: you happy?

**Craig Tucker**: Was it that hard to say?

**Craig Tucker**: Of course you were fucking scared; you're a virgin.

**Craig Tucker**: That's why I said I wouldn't have done it if I'd known

**Stan Marsh**: dick

**Craig Tucker**: You know by not telling me, if we would have gone through with it, it would have hurt like a bitch, right?

**Craig Tucker**: There's precautions you should take when you're with a virgin; and I wasn't about to be "sweet" about it

**Stan Marsh**: …

**Craig Tucker**: Right, that's awkward, isn't it? What I meant to say was that if I didn't know I wouldn't have been as careful

**Stan Marsh**: …

**Stan Marsh**: i didn't need to know any of that.

**Craig Tucker**: Then forget about it

**Stan Marsh**: well, no.

**Craig Tucker**: Why not?

**Stan Marsh**: whatever.

**Craig Tucker**: If you didn't want to know, then don't think about it; Christ, how hard is that?

**Stan Marsh**: i don't get it.

**Stan Marsh**: isn't it supposed to hurt.

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah, but it hurts less if you do it the right way

**Stan Marsh**: how can there be a wrong way. There's one entrance

**Craig Tucker**: There isn't a wrong way. Well, there is, but that's not what I'm talking about.

**Craig Tucker**: To make it hurt less you just have to put more effort into it

**Craig Tucker**: You probably don't need to hear it, but stretch you out more before it actually happens

**Stan Marsh**: jfc, that's why you had lotion.

**Stan Marsh**: JFC

**Stan Marsh**: I'm going to go

**Craig Tucker**: You really didn't know?

**Stan Marsh**: no.

**Craig Tucker**: How can you even…? Okay

**Craig Tucker**: Well now you know

**Stan Marsh**: you suck.

**Craig Tucker**: For informing you?

**Craig Tucker**: My fucking bad

**Craig Tucker**: I'll let you find out when some other asshole tries to stick his fingers in your ass

**Stan Marsh**: …why do you assume some other asshole is going to stick his fingers in my ass

**Craig Tucker**: Because you're GAY. It's obvious.

**Craig Tucker**: And really, don't try and kid yourself into thinking you'd be the one on top because you're too much of a bitch

**Stan Marsh**: I could be on top if I wanted to

**Craig Tucker**: Right. And I'm an elephant with wings in heaven.

**Stan Marsh**: how did you even come up with that

**Stan Marsh**: are you high

**Craig Tucker**: No, it's just the most ridiculous thing I could come up with in five seconds

**Craig Tucker**: You want me to think of something better?

**Stan Marsh**: sure

**Stan Marsh**: and I'm not gay.

**Stan Marsh**: I'm bisexual.

**Stan Marsh**: There's a difference.

**Craig Tucker**: Riiiight. How many women have you been attracted to besides Wendy? Now how many men about you been attracted to? Think about it

**Craig Tucker**: Wendy is just a coincidence

**Craig Tucker**: Because she's tough

**Stan Marsh**: …..

**Stan Marsh**: No

**Stan Marsh**: What guys have I been attracted to

**Craig Tucker**: I don't know how many guys you've been attracted to, but I know there's more men than women on your list.

**Craig Tucker**: It's completely obvious

**Craig Tucker**: Let's count the ones I DO know:

**Craig Tucker**: Women: Wendy

**Craig Tucker**: Men: Kenny, me

**Craig Tucker**: Look, the men already double the women

**Stan Marsh**: what the hell

**Stan Marsh**: I don't like you in that way

**Craig Tucker**: Right, we're back to denial, okay

**Craig Tucker**: You don't

**Craig Tucker**: But I bet you've thought about Kyle, too, seeing as he's your best friend and all

**Craig Tucker**: So that's still double the men

**Stan Marsh**: ….

**Stan Marsh**: fuck you with a tire pump, craig

**Craig Tucker**: I didn't do anything to you

**Craig Tucker**: I'm only telling you things you already know

**Craig Tucker**: Or didn't know but needed to

**Stan Marsh**: no

**Craig Tucker**: I'm being helpful

**Stan Marsh**: I'm in a relationship with wendy.

**Stan Marsh**: you don't see me telling you you're straight

**Craig Tucker**: Because I'm not

**Stan Marsh**: ugh

**Craig Tucker**: You just can't win today, huh?

**Stan Marsh**: fuck you

**Stan Marsh**: I won yesterday

**Craig Tucker**: Ohhh, big man

**Stan Marsh**: shut up

**Craig Tucker**: Alright, I'll stop talking to you then

**Stan Marsh**: …

**Stan Marsh**: whatever.

**Stan Marsh**: JFC

**Stan Marsh**: GDI

**Stan Marsh**: fucking a ugh

**Craig Tucker**: Can't handle it when I don't play your fucking games?

**Stan Marsh**: No

**Stan Marsh**: It's not you for once

**Craig Tucker**: Right, well then it's not my problem, I can go back to ignoring you

**Stan Marsh**: Well, actually

**Stan Marsh**: My girlfriend just posted on tumblr that we made out

**Stan Marsh**: so it sort of is your problem.

**Craig Tucker**: …pass it off as a joke?

**Craig Tucker**: People always rip on us for being gay; they did it before too

**Stan Marsh**: I don't get what the fuck is going on with her

**Craig Tucker**: So who would know the difference?

**Stan Marsh**: First she fights with Kenny

**Stan Marsh**: And then apparently Kenny told her he gives me better blow jobs then she ever did

**Craig Tucker**: Can we not get specific here? I don't need to know what my boyfriend did with you, thanks

**Stan Marsh**: oh like you haven't seen all the parts involved in that already

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah well we didn't actually /do/ anything other than touch each other, and I don't need to know what parts of you have been on my boyfriend

**Craig Tucker**: Even if it was while we weren't together

**Craig Tucker**: Still don't need to hear about it

**Stan Marsh**: get over it

**Stan Marsh**: It's not like he keeps the same body anyways

**Craig Tucker**: What does that even mean?

**Stan Marsh**: …oh

**Stan Marsh**: nevermind

**Craig Tucker**: Oh?

**Craig Tucker**: Oh fucking what

**Stan Marsh**: No

**Stan Marsh**: I'm not telling you

**Stan Marsh**: Kenny would have told you if he wanted you to know

**Craig Tucker**: Fucking tell me; he's asleep by now so I can't ask him

**Stan Marsh**: no.

**Craig Tucker**: Why the fuck not?

**Stan Marsh**: how can you NOT know already

**Stan Marsh**: If you're dating him

**Craig Tucker**: Obviously it's not that obvious

**Stan Marsh**: you wouldn't believe me anyways

**Stan Marsh**: just forget it

**Craig Tucker**: You're such a dick

**Craig Tucker**: I'll tell you a secret if you tell me

**Stan Marsh**: try me.

**Stan Marsh**: Not going first

**Craig Tucker**: No, you tell me first. I keep my promises, but you're a dick and you won't tell me if I go first

**Stan Marsh**: No

**Stan Marsh**: I'm not telling my friend's secrets.

**Stan Marsh**: Seriously I'm not a fucking loser

**Stan Marsh**: just wait until he decides to tell you

**Craig Tucker**: Ugh you're a cockmunch

**Stan Marsh**: yeah.

**Craig Tucker**: It's a pretty good secret, too

**Craig Tucker**: But you'll never know

**Stan Marsh**: Nope, never'll know

**Stan Marsh**: Kenny's probably the healthiest person on the planet, though.

**Stan Marsh**: like he was born yesterday, I guess

**Craig Tucker**: Is that supposed to be a hint? Because it didn't make any fucking sense

**Stan Marsh**: yep

**Craig Tucker**: Kenny's always sick or hurt

**Stan Marsh**: yeah.

**Stan Marsh**: He's also got bad luck

**Craig Tucker**: Way to contradict yourself.

**Stan Marsh**: Yep

**Stan Marsh**: dude just stop asking

**Stan Marsh**: I have to go to bed anyways

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah, you said that yesterday and then stayed online and talked to me for another hour

**Stan Marsh**: I'm serious

**Stan Marsh**: night, fuckface

**Craig Tucker**: Yep, good night

**Craig Tucker**: Have fun dreaming about me

**Stan Marsh**: sure will

**Stan Marsh**: now that I know how it actually goes on maybe dream you will get all the way

**Craig Tucker**: Ha.

**Stan Marsh**: You've gotten pretty far in my dreams

**Craig Tucker**: I bet I have

**Craig Tucker**: It's because you know you'll never get that far in real life

**Stan Marsh**: well, no

**Stan Marsh**: it's all fantasy

**Stan Marsh**: had a really awesome one about on a plane

**Stan Marsh**: want to hear about it?

**Craig Tucker**: You're going to tell me even if I say no

**Stan Marsh**: Yep

**Craig Tucker**: So why even ask?

**Stan Marsh**: true

**Stan Marsh**: well we were on this plane and went to the bathroom to make out

**Stan Marsh**: and then the emergency light went on and locked the door so we went further, and then the plane crashed and burst into flames before you could actually penetrate me. sad, huh?

**Stan Marsh**: dream you has the same troubles

**Craig Tucker**: Sounds pretty accurate

**Craig Tucker**: Locked in a room

**Craig Tucker**: Blue-balled

**Craig Tucker**: Yep

**Stan Marsh**: Only they weren't scared of my ass

**Stan Marsh**: and didn't ask twenty five times if they could do something

**Stan Marsh**: haha.

**Stan Marsh**: Yeah. night.

**Craig Tucker**: Hey, I only asked a million times because I didn't want you to fucking back you at the last second, which you did anyway

**Craig Tucker**: So it was a waste of breath

**Stan Marsh**: maybe I backed out because i thought you were going to murder me, you asked so many times

**Stan Marsh**: jesus christ, every two second

**Craig Tucker**: In reality I only asked once or twice. And the first time you didn't even know what I was talking about

**Craig Tucker**: But apparently I was trying to rape you by asking for consent so many times

**Craig Tucker**: So

**Stan Marsh**: Yep

**Craig Tucker**: Why do we fucking talk about this so much? Fucking go to bed

**Stan Marsh**: go fuck yourself to sleep with a storybook, craig

**Stan Marsh**: don't forget to shove the nightlight up there too

**Stan Marsh**: night

**Craig Tucker**: You really like the thought of me shoving things in my ass

**Stan Marsh**: yep

**Stan Marsh**: fascinated with it

**Stan Marsh**: night

**Craig Tucker**: Gross; why a story book?

**Craig Tucker**: And a lamp?

**Craig Tucker**: At least fantasize about me in a sexy way

**Craig Tucker**: Not a gross way

**Stan Marsh**: fine

**Stan Marsh**: a glowing anal probe

**Stan Marsh**: there you go

**Stan Marsh**: good fucking night

**Craig Tucker**: I'll get right on that for you

**Stan Marsh**: gross


	7. 05 11 2012

05.11.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh**: ok, so

**Stan Marsh**: here's the thing

**Stan Marsh**: I told kenny you like him because he completes you

**Stan Marsh**: so just go with it

**Craig Tucker**: Why would you tell him something that I didn't actually say?

**Craig Tucker**: Are you fucking stupid?

**Craig Tucker**: What if you lie to him and he finds out?

**Craig Tucker**: Then we're both fucked

**Stan Marsh**: you like kenny, right.

**Stan Marsh**: so go with it.

**Craig Tucker**: But "he completes me"?

**Craig Tucker**: That's fucking gay

**Stan Marsh**: you are gay

**Craig Tucker**: Not that kind of gay, dumbass

**Stan Marsh**: you're a dumbass.

**Craig Tucker**: What if things don't work out for some reason? And he's crushed because you lied?

**Stan Marsh**: well it's your fault you were high as a fucking kite. so deal with it.

**Craig Tucker**: Dude, seriously, fuck you.

**Stan Marsh**: Fuck you with a pitchfork, Craig

**Stan Marsh**: Fuck you with a pitchfork

**Craig Tucker**: I'm never too high to deal with my own boyfriend.

**Craig Tucker**: There's no such thing

**Stan Marsh**: then you should have instead of hiding

**Stan Marsh**: fucker

**Craig Tucker**: He didn't even ask me

**Craig Tucker**: So fuck off

**Stan Marsh**: you fuck off

**Craig Tucker**: No, you're the fucking one that started this shit

**Craig Tucker**: Don't fucking lie to people

**Stan Marsh**: you started it by dating my best friend so fuck you with something pointy, ok

**Stan Marsh**: Fuck you

**Stan Marsh**: fine I'll go tell him the truth

**Stan Marsh**: that you got high without him

**Stan Marsh**: and ignored him all night

**Stan Marsh**: because he was too emotional

**Craig Tucker**: I didn't fucking ignore him, you asshole

**Craig Tucker**: That's just another lie

**Stan Marsh**: don't care, don't give a shit, fuck you.

**Craig Tucker**: If you fuck up my relationship, I swear to God, I'll fuck /you/ up

**Stan Marsh**: sure you will

**Stan Marsh**: Just try tucker

**Craig Tucker**: Or maybe I can just have another chat with Wendy and tell her what actually happened without being as vague as I was

**Stan Marsh**: I already told her

**Stan Marsh**: right down to the condom.

**Craig Tucker**: I bet you lied because that's what you fucking do best

**Stan Marsh**: nope

**Stan Marsh**: I also told Kenny

**Stan Marsh**: right down to the condom

**Craig Tucker**: Sure. I bet you told her it was all my fucking fault and that I tried raping you

**Craig Tucker**: Lies.

**Stan Marsh**: But I actually told them both I initiated it, so fuck you if your relationship fails, I tried saving it.

**Craig Tucker**: You didn't try saving it, you're the fucking reason it's on the rocks

**Craig Tucker**: So fuck you

**Stan Marsh**: what, because you fucked with me in the locker room

**Stan Marsh**: Takes two to fuck things up this bad, asshole

**Craig Tucker**: No, just fuck you

**Stan Marsh**: fuck you

**Craig Tucker**: No, fucking go to Hell

**Craig Tucker**: Stop talking to me

**Craig Tucker**: Every goddamn day

**Stan Marsh**: you fucking go to hell on a magic carpet, bastard.

**Stan Marsh**: I don't.

**Craig Tucker**: You fucking do.

**Stan Marsh**: but I'm going to stop because my girlfriend doesn't want me to talk to your sorry ass, and I can't blame her.

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah, she doesn't want you to talk to me because she doesn't want you to get any more fucking attached than you already are

**Craig Tucker**: And I fucking agree

**Craig Tucker**: Wendy's fucking smart

**Stan Marsh**: Yes she is

**Stan Marsh**: and no, I'm not attached to you

**Craig Tucker**: Then why do you fucking talk to me so much?

**Craig Tucker**: And come to my house uninvited?

**Stan Marsh**: why don't you go shove the whole red wood forest up your ass, Craig

**Stan Marsh**: just fuck off

**Stan Marsh**: seriously

**Craig Tucker**: Way to avoid the fucking question.

**Stan Marsh**: Because you're a fuckface

**Stan Marsh**: so fuck off

**Craig Tucker**: That's totally valid.

**Stan Marsh**: Yep

**Craig Tucker**: I don't even fucking care why you talk to me, just fuck you

**Craig Tucker**: Leave me alone so I can get my fucking life back in order

**Stan Marsh**: ok, then fucking leave me alone

**Stan Marsh**: bye

**Craig Tucker**: YOU'RE the one that keeps fucking pestering me.

**Craig Tucker**: I'm not responding anymore

**Craig Tucker**: Ever

**Stan Marsh**: WHY ARE YOU RESPONDING.

**Stan Marsh**: okay

**Stan Marsh**: Go away

**Stan Marsh**: god

**Stan Marsh**: Drama fucking queen

**Stan Marsh**: and by the fucking way, I don't want you. So quit talking to Kenny about me.

**Stan Marsh**: It's not happening. Ever.

**Craig Tucker**: I don't talk to Kenny about you

**Craig Tucker**: Only if he fucking asks

**Craig Tucker**: Because for some reason he thinks I'm going to fucking leave him

**Craig Tucker**: So fuck you

**Craig Tucker**: You caused all of this

**Stan Marsh**: Leave him for me

**Stan Marsh**: I don't know why the fuck he'd think that

**Stan Marsh**: unless you've been hinting about shit

**Stan Marsh**: I didn't cause any of this

**Stan Marsh**: if you would have stayed out of my fucking face

**Stan Marsh**: and not being turned on by dirty fighting, you fucking pervert

**Craig Tucker**: Fuck

**Craig Tucker**: you

**Craig Tucker**: You fucking caused /all/ of it

**Stan Marsh**: No

**Stan Marsh**: I didn't

**Stan Marsh**: stop blaming me fucktard

**Craig Tucker**: Ugh, just seriously, fuck you

**Stan Marsh**: fuck you.

**Craig Tucker**: I don't need this

**Stan Marsh**: why?

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: because obviously you didn't participate, right

**Stan Marsh**: so evidently you don't need to be involved

**Stan Marsh**: in anything that happens after

**Stan Marsh**: you think my relationship is fucking perfect?

**Craig Tucker**: I don't care about your fucking relationship; I care about mine

**Stan Marsh**: I can't believe I cheated on my girlfriend with someone like fucking you

**Stan Marsh**: god

**Craig Tucker**: And how it's fucking going to the shits because of you

**Stan Marsh**: you've been dating a week

**Stan Marsh**: idiot

**Craig Tucker**: So? I wouldn't have asked him out if he didn't mean something to me

**Stan Marsh**: yeah

**Stan Marsh**: just like you wouldn't make out with me because he means something to you

**Craig Tucker**: You. Started. It.

**Stan Marsh**: Did. Not.

**Craig Tucker**: Okay, fuck this, I'm not fucking arguing about it anymore

**Craig Tucker**: Who fucking cares

**Craig Tucker**: I hate you

**Stan Marsh**: Who does fucking care

**Craig Tucker**: I fucking hate you

**Stan Marsh**: I fucking hate you too

**Stan Marsh**: go cry in a pillow about it

**Stan Marsh**: and then fucking shove it up your ass

**Craig Tucker**: Go fucking drown in vodka over it

**Stan Marsh**: I will

**Stan Marsh**: go have a bad joint

**Stan Marsh**: and OD

**Craig Tucker**: You can't fucking OD on weed, dumbass

**Craig Tucker**: Nice try though

**Stan Marsh**: if it's laced with shit yes

**Stan Marsh**: yes you can

**Craig Tucker**: I don't even fucking care. Arguing with you is fucking pointless

**Stan Marsh**: talking with you is fucking pointless

**Stan Marsh**: apathetic son of a bitch

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah, fuck you, why /should/ I care?

**Craig Tucker**: Apathetic is the best fucking way to be

**Stan Marsh**: for a rock

**Stan Marsh**: have fun with that

**Craig Tucker**: Is there a fucking reason you want me to care? Because I don't fucking see any

**Craig Tucker**: So I won't

**Stan Marsh**: let me play a sad melody on the world's tiniest violin for you

**Craig Tucker**: I'm not the fucking sad one, I'm apathetic, remember?

**Stan Marsh**: you're the idiot one

**Stan Marsh**: I remember that

**Stan Marsh**: what do you want from me, seriously

**Stan Marsh**: Why do you keep talking

**Craig Tucker**: How the fuck am I the idiot one?

**Craig Tucker**: When you don't even know what the fuck it going on half the time?

**Stan Marsh**: Fuck you

**Stan Marsh**: just tell me what you want and leave me the fuck alone

**Craig Tucker**: /You/ IMed /me/ assface

**Craig Tucker**: And you're really fucking pissing me off

**Stan Marsh**: I was going to STOP

**Stan Marsh**: and now you're just

**Stan Marsh**: ranting.

**Stan Marsh**: what the fuck.

**Craig Tucker**: Because fucking fuck you

**Craig Tucker**: I fucking hate you

**Craig Tucker**: You're ruining my fucking relationship

**Stan Marsh**: how am I ruining it

**Craig Tucker**: Fuck you

**Stan Marsh**: Kenny is perfectly happy now you moron

**Stan Marsh**: don't fuck it up

**Craig Tucker**: Never ficking mind

**Craig Tucker**: I'm leaving

**Stan Marsh**: …

**Stan Marsh**: this is an aim conversation

**Stan Marsh**: you don't leave

**Stan Marsh**: you just quit responding

**Stan Marsh**: retard

**Stan Marsh**: by the way

**Stan Marsh**: it's not ficking

**Stan Marsh**: it's fucking

**Stan Marsh**: if you're going to use fuck every other word you might as well spell it right

**Craig Tucker**: I'm going to kill you, stop talking to me

**Stan Marsh**: kill me? ooo, big scary threat

**Stan Marsh**: from someone who is so apathetic they can't bother themselves with dealing with shit they helped cause

**Stan Marsh**: you sure you won't overexert yourself?

**Craig Tucker**: Stop

**Craig Tucker**: IMing me

**Stan Marsh**: you stop

**Stan Marsh**: IMing me

**Stan Marsh**: in frag

**Stan Marsh**: ments

**Stan Marsh**: to prove

**Stan Marsh**: you really

**Stan Marsh**: hate

**Stan Marsh**: me

**Stan Marsh**: with as many

**Stan Marsh**: lines as

**Stan Marsh**: possible

**Craig Tucker**: … is there a reason you're trying to piss me off? Because really, I'm passed pissed now. Now I'm just fucking annoyed that my computer keeps dinging.

**Craig Tucker**: I don't want to talk to you, so just stop

**Stan Marsh**: why are you even pissed

**Craig Tucker**: Does it matter? I hate you, I don't need a reason to be pissed.

**Stan Marsh**: yeah. right.

**Stan Marsh**: you hate me soooooo much

**Craig Tucker**: I do.

**Stan Marsh**: really.

**Stan Marsh**: so much you're going to overexert yourself and kill me, huh.

**Craig Tucker**: I'm not going to kill you. I don't even want to see you. Or hear you. Or think about your fucking IMs.

**Craig Tucker**: So stop

**Stan Marsh**: …..

**Stan Marsh**: that's just a fucking odd comment

**Stan Marsh**: you don't want to hear me?

**Stan Marsh**: stop jacking off to my aim box, tucker

**Craig Tucker**: I was just listing off fucking senses, get off it

**Stan Marsh**: get off it? was that a phrase you used because you're currently getting it off, to my aim box

**Stan Marsh**: too many dings, huh

**Stan Marsh**: interrupting the mood

**Craig Tucker**: Fucking stop. Seriously.

**Stan Marsh**: why

**Stan Marsh**: are you afraid I know what you're doing?

**Craig Tucker**: No, because I'm just sitting here.

**Craig Tucker**: What would I be doing?

**Stan Marsh**: www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=hetaBX00wtI

**Stan Marsh**: that

**Craig Tucker**: I'm not clicking anything you send me

**Craig Tucker**: We've been over this

**Stan Marsh**: whatever.

**Stan Marsh**: the last time you swore a lot was when you were all up on me so I don't give a fuck if you're turned on or off.

**Stan Marsh**: just get the fuck over it.

**Stan Marsh**: not happening.

**Craig Tucker**: What does my swearing have to do with anything?

**Craig Tucker**: I fucking swear all the time

**Stan Marsh**: yeah

**Stan Marsh**: right

**Stan Marsh**: I'm going to stop messaging you now

**Craig Tucker**: Thank fucking God

**Stan Marsh**: yep.

**Stan Marsh**: (but fuck you)

**Stan Marsh**: Well wait

**Stan Marsh**: what the fuck

**Stan Marsh**: For four fucking nights we've bitched at each other

**Stan Marsh**: what's different now

**Craig Tucker**: Nothing is different now, good bye

**Stan Marsh**: that

**Stan Marsh**: is bullshit

**Stan Marsh**: what the hell are you doing

**Craig Tucker**: I'm not doing anything

**Stan Marsh**: you are too

**Stan Marsh**: ok, I'm fucking serious about admitting to wendy and kenny that I initiated

**Stan Marsh**: so don't fuck it up

**Stan Marsh**: by telling them I lied

**Stan Marsh**: because I didn't lie to them and I don't want to have to go through that shit again

**Craig Tucker**: I'm not telling anyone anything, just fucking go to bed

**Stan Marsh**: I'm not going to bed

**Stan Marsh**: what the fuck

**Stan Marsh**: Don't tell me what to do

**Craig Tucker**: Then don't go to bed, fuck if I care

**Craig Tucker**: Just leave

**Stan Marsh**: stop thinking about me and a bed tucker

**Stan Marsh**: Just get over it

**Stan Marsh**: just STOP

**Craig Tucker**: These jokes are getting old

**Stan Marsh**: I'm not fucking joking.

**Craig Tucker**: Well I'm not thinking about anything except how much I hate you, so you're fucking safe from mind rape

**Craig Tucker**: Because I'm a fucking rapist and you didn't consent

**Craig Tucker**: Just fuck off

**Stan Marsh**: jfc you're not a rapist

**Stan Marsh**: obviously

**Stan Marsh**: if I told them what actually happened

**Craig Tucker**: Then /you/ might look bad instead of me?

**Stan Marsh**: I did

**Craig Tucker**: Right, well I'll just take the fucking fall

**Stan Marsh**: no

**Stan Marsh**: you haven't

**Stan Marsh**: I told them what happened

**Stan Marsh**: every fucking detail

**Craig Tucker**: No you didn't; I know you'd lie about it

**Stan Marsh**: well then you don't know fucking shit about me, tucker.

**Craig Tucker**: That's why Kenny is so fucking upset all the time and he thinks I'm going to leave him

**Stan Marsh**: have you talked to him since yesterday

**Stan Marsh**: because I told him last night.

**Stan Marsh**: idiot

**Craig Tucker**: Yes, actually, but all he did was tell me he got a new job. We don't really talk a lot since I got out of the hospital because he thinks I'll hate him if he's depressed

**Stan Marsh**: then thats your fucking issue to figure out

**Stan Marsh**: i have normal fucking conversations with him

**Stan Marsh**: maybe i should be dating kenny instead of you

**Craig Tucker**: …maybe you should

**Stan Marsh**: …

**Stan Marsh**: what the fuck

**Stan Marsh**: was that supposed to confuse me, because I was making fun of you for your lack of giving a shit about kenny's feelings.

**Stan Marsh**: goddamnit, instead of talking to me go talk to him

**Craig Tucker**: No, fuck, all I do is make things worse for him. Just fucking stop so I can successfully ignore you.

**Stan Marsh**: ….

**Stan Marsh**: jfc

**Stan Marsh**: ok, whatever

**Stan Marsh**: i'm not even going to try and help you work things out with kenny because obviously you've given up already

**Stan Marsh**: fucker

**Craig Tucker**: I haven't given up, fuck you. I just don't need your fucking help with my problems, seeing as you're probably the biggest fucking one

**Stan Marsh**: how am I your biggest fucking problem.

**Stan Marsh**: we've been hating each other for fucking years

**Craig Tucker**: Fuck you

**Stan Marsh**: Fuck you

**Craig Tucker**: No, fucking seriously, fuck you.

**Craig Tucker**: I /really/ don

**Craig Tucker**: t want to talk to you right now

**Stan Marsh**: you're really don

**Stan Marsh**: hello don

**Stan Marsh**: whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy?

**Craig Tucker**: Why would I want to talk to you?

**Craig Tucker**: Would it help if I said "please?" Please fucking stop.

**Craig Tucker**: There

**Stan Marsh**: no, because now I want to know why you want me to stop talking.

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: c'mon, tell me

**Craig Tucker**: Why?

**Stan Marsh**: because I'm curious.

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Craig Tucker**: I just hate you

**Stan Marsh**: Come on

**Craig Tucker**: That's it

**Stan Marsh**: Yeah

**Stan Marsh**: you hated me three days ago

**Stan Marsh**: and we talked until 4 in the fucking morning

**Craig Tucker**: So? You're the one that was fucking spamming me

**Craig Tucker**: Does there need to be a reason to not want to talk to you until 4am every night?

**Stan Marsh**: ..yes.

**Stan Marsh**: You don't say please.

**Stan Marsh**: ever.

**Stan Marsh**: What's up?

**Craig Tucker**: Fucking nothing

**Craig Tucker**: Stop asking

**Stan Marsh**: It's not nothing

**Stan Marsh**: what is it?

**Craig Tucker**: It's fucking nothing; why are you so persistent?

**Stan Marsh**: hey, craig.

**Stan Marsh**: look at this baby wombat. 25 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m3ktuut9wu1r1knwfo1_500 dot jpg

**Stan Marsh**: and maybe I care.

**Stan Marsh**: so what's up?

**Craig Tucker**: I don't care about the baby wombat

**Stan Marsh**: awww, poor baby wombat.

**Craig Tucker**: You don't fucking care, stop the bullshit

**Stan Marsh**: no, really

**Stan Marsh**: maybe I do

**Stan Marsh**: so tell me what's up

**Craig Tucker**: Why would you fucking care?

**Craig Tucker**: I don't want to talk to you

**Stan Marsh**: 25 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_ly3gavm5ru1r97rrio1_500 dot png baby guinea pig that fits in the palm of your hand

**Stan Marsh**: come on.

**Stan Marsh**: look at the cute animals and indulge me why you're so pissed off tonight of all nights.

**Craig Tucker**: I don't fucking want to

**Craig Tucker**: No

**Stan Marsh**: 24 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_ls5s18A4X71qgwu17o1_500 dot jpgo.m.g look at its hair

**Stan Marsh**: thats fucking awesome

**Stan Marsh:** come on

**Stan Marsh**: tell me

**Stan Marsh**: 25 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_lo6vmnFa961qmgj5co1_500 dot jpgdude its camoflage

**Stan Marsh**: come on tucker

**Craig Tucker**: Just stop

**Stan Marsh**: stop what?

**Craig Tucker**: Everything. Just stop.

**Stan Marsh**: what's wrong

**Craig Tucker**: You. You're my problem so fucking stop IMing me.

**Stan Marsh**: how am I your problem.

**Stan Marsh**: seriously.

**Craig Tucker**: You're my problem because you fucking fucked up my relationship and I don't know if it's ever going to get better and you won't stop fucking talking to me and I don't know why I even fucking respond at all because you're a waste of time and Tweek is trying to talk to me and everything just fucking sucks and I don't know what I want.

**Craig Tucker**: Happy?

**Craig Tucker**: I'm having a fucking moment

**Craig Tucker**: And I don't need you talking to me

**Craig Tucker**: So fuck off

**Stan Marsh**: …..

**Stan Marsh**: um, ok

**Stan Marsh**: I'll back off

**Stan Marsh**: night

**Craig Tucker**: Fucking finally

**Stan Marsh**: I'll leave you with this ghetto fabulous guinea pig 24 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m3w6ijnHte1qi6m0lo1_500 dot jpg

**Stan Marsh**: hope things get better.

**Stan Marsh**: bye

**Craig Tucker**: whatever.

**Stan Marsh**: ..are you going back with tweek?

**Craig Tucker**: No, I'm not.

**Stan Marsh**: and you're not breaking up with kenny, right

**Craig Tucker**: Why would I break up with Kenny

**Stan Marsh**: like he's worried about it

**Stan Marsh**: I'm just making sure I don't have to kick your ass

**Craig Tucker**: Why would I leave him?

**Stan Marsh**: i don't know

**Stan Marsh**: because you're an idiot

**Craig Tucker**: Makes sense.

**Stan Marsh**: yeah

**Stan Marsh**: thought so myself

**Stan Marsh**: anyways.

**Stan Marsh**: why be so stressed about it. it's a fucking no brainer.

**Craig Tucker**: Maybe.

**Craig Tucker**: Just fuck off, seriously

**Craig Tucker**: I thought you were going to back off

**Stan Marsh**: yeah.

**Stan Marsh**: but you seem like, suicidal, so I'm just going to keep talking to you.

**Stan Marsh**: not really suicidal

**Stan Marsh**: just emotional

**Craig Tucker**: Ugh, I'm not suicidal.

**Stan Marsh**: that's kind of weird.

**Craig Tucker**: I'm allowed to have emotions, asshole

**Stan Marsh**: yeah.

**Craig Tucker**: Well you're really not making things any better, you're actually kind of making them worse. So just go the fuck away

**Stan Marsh**: what?

**Stan Marsh**: how did that make anything worse

**Stan Marsh**: what the fuck

**Stan Marsh**: I be nice and you're being a fucktard

**Stan Marsh**: well fuck you tucker

**Craig Tucker**: Yep

**Stan Marsh**: how am I your biggest problem when tweek's back.

**Craig Tucker**: Because I Tweek is easily avoidable

**Craig Tucker**: But you don't know when to fucking stop

**Stan Marsh**: …..

**Stan Marsh**: are you saying you have feelings for me?

**Craig Tucker**: No, how does that even make sense? I hate you and you won't stop talking to me, that's a problem

**Stan Marsh**: you just compared me with tweek.

**Stan Marsh**: what the fuck.

**Craig Tucker**: Because you compared yourself to him first

**Craig Tucker**: I was just following suit

**Stan Marsh**: sure

**Stan Marsh**: that's bullshit

**Craig Tucker**: Whatever you fucking say because you're always right

**Craig Tucker**: I'm done arguing

**Stan Marsh**: whatever.

**Stan Marsh**: that wasn't an argument

**Craig Tucker**: Since when is "that's bullshit" not an argument?

**Craig Tucker**: If you want to believe whatever you believe, then fucking do it

**Craig Tucker**: I don't care

**Stan Marsh**: okay

**Stan Marsh**: I'll just believe you have a crush on me

**Stan Marsh**: works for me

**Craig Tucker**: If that's what you fucking think, then I don't care. I'm seriously fucking fed up with this.

**Stan Marsh**: Really

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah

**Stan Marsh**: goddamnit

**Stan Marsh**: fine

**Stan Marsh**: if you want to fucking talk about something talk about it

**Craig Tucker**: I've been telling you this whole time that I don't want to talk about it

**Craig Tucker**: But you keep pushing

**Stan Marsh**: because bottling up shit is not the way to solve anything and definitely not with kenny.

**Stan Marsh**: he's had enough of that fucking shit in his house

**Stan Marsh**: don't do it to him in his love life

**Craig Tucker**: I'm not bottling up anything about Kenny

**Craig Tucker**: That shit's out in the open

**Stan Marsh**: what are you bottling up then

**Stan Marsh**: because obviously it's upsetting kenny

**Craig Tucker**: Nothing.

**Stan Marsh**: bullshit.

**Stan Marsh:** Just fucking say it

**Craig Tucker**: No, I already told Stripe, so fuck off

**Stan Marsh**: ugh

**Stan Marsh**: yeah because he can respond

**Craig Tucker**: He doesn't need to, the point in saying it is to get it out. Why are you putting so much effort into this? What do you want me to say?

**Stan Marsh**: I don't know.

**Craig Tucker**: What could possibly be wrong with me that you would give any shits about?

**Stan Marsh**: I don't know.

**Craig Tucker**: So why do you keep asking?

**Stan Marsh**: …I don't really know.

**Craig Tucker**: Then stop. Because I don't even know how many times I've told you to already.

**Craig Tucker**: And if you don't have a reason then there's no point in doing it

**Stan Marsh**: I kinda care.

**Craig Tucker**: No you don't; we hate each other

**Stan Marsh**: I hate you but I'm not that big of a douche.

**Craig Tucker**: There's a big jump between "I kinda care" and "I hate you"

**Craig Tucker**: So pick one because I don't need both

**Craig Tucker**: Scratch that; just hate me

**Stan Marsh**: I hate you but I'm fine with not hating you when you need someone uninvolved to listen.

**Craig Tucker**: Well obviously if I already told you that you're the biggest problem, you're not uninvolved. You don't need to listen. I hate you and I don't understand why you keep talking to me into the ungoldy hours of the night. it's already fucking almost 4am. Why do you keep doing this?

**Craig Tucker**: Just seriously stop

**Stan Marsh**: what are you trying to say?

**Craig Tucker**: I'm not trying to say anything; I'm saying go away.

**Stan Marsh**: ok..

**Craig Tucker**: Are you actually going to go this time?

**Stan Marsh**: you're kind of depressing me

**Stan Marsh**: so I'm gonna go

**Craig Tucker**: You don't have a reason to be depressed, it's not your fucking problem

**Craig Tucker**: But yes, fucking go

**Stan Marsh**: night

**Stan Marsh**: sleep well craigy-poo

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah


	8. 05 12 2012

05.12.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh**: i have a guinea pig.

**Craig Tucker**: And?

**Stan Marsh**: well..

**Stan Marsh**: I kind of stole it

**Stan Marsh**: i don't know what to name it

**Craig Tucker**: You stole it?

**Craig Tucker**: That's actually kind of badass

**Craig Tucker**: For hating you

**Stan Marsh**: well it was at the shelter and someone dropped it off at the front

**Stan Marsh**: so this guy was carrying it in and i asked if they were going to put it up for adoption and they say they put down all guinea pigs who are abandoned without information

**Stan Marsh**: so i asked if I could hold it and I ran

**Stan Marsh**: i don't know what to do about a cage

**Craig Tucker**: I have an old one from when Stripe was younger somewhere in the attic, but I don't really want to dig it out for you when you could just as easily buy your own

**Stan Marsh**: yeah.

**Stan Marsh**: okay

**Stan Marsh**: can you at least watch it for an hour while I go buy the stuff.

**Stan Marsh**: I don't want to leave it alone because I have a dog

**Craig Tucker**: You want me to watch it?

**Craig Tucker**: Why don't you ask fucking Broflovski or something?

**Stan Marsh**: uh

**Stan Marsh**: because it's a guinea pig

**Stan Marsh**: and you have food

**Stan Marsh**: for them

**Craig Tucker**: You want me to /feed/ it too?

**Stan Marsh**: dude its a guinea pig

**Craig Tucker**: Why would I be that generous?

**Stan Marsh**: it's cute

**Craig Tucker**: But it's your guinea pig

**Craig Tucker**: That means it's yours

**Stan Marsh**: it's a white..abyssian? Idk what it's called

**Stan Marsh**: it has the funky hair

**Craig Tucker**: Does it have crazy fucking hair?

**Stan Marsh**: yeah

**Craig Tucker**: Yeah, that's what it's called

**Stan Marsh**: ok

**Stan Marsh:** well will you watch my crazy fucking haired guinea pig

**Stan Marsh**: it'll be an hour

**Craig Tucker**: Only because it's a guinea pig. I really still don't want to talk to you so just drop it off and get the fuck out

**Stan Marsh**: ok

**Stan Marsh**: but you can't keep it, ok

**Stan Marsh**: it's mine

**Stan Marsh**: i'll be back in an hour

**Craig Tucker**: I wouldn't keep it, dumbass

**Craig Tucker**: I can't afford two guinea pigs

**Stan Marsh**: okay

**Stan Marsh**: I'll pay you back for food and shit

**Stan Marsh**: he's in a basket right now so I'm just gonna put a blanket over it

**Craig Tucker**: Right

* * *

After putting the white guinea pig back in the basket from sitting on his lap as he texted Craig, Stan put a red blanket over the top of the basket and carried it out. He walked over to Craig's house instead of driving, since he really didn't want to leave the guinea pig unattended in the driver's seat while he drove - he worried it would climb out and hurt itself.

Knocking roughly on the Tucker's door, he waited with his eyes on the top of the blanket. Inside, he had stuck a whole head of iceburg lettuce which the guinea pig hadn't touched, because it was distracted by about twenty mini-carrots.

**Craig sits at his desk, irritated that he's going to have to see Stan again. He /really/ hates seeing Stan anymore; even more than he used to. It just fucks with his head, and he doesn't like thinking about it. Everything is already fucked up enough as it is, he doesn't need Stan making things worse. If it weren't a goddamned guinea pig, he probably wouldn't have even responded to Stan at all.**

**He barely hears the knocking from all the way up in his room and he reluctantly leaves his desk chair. This is for a guinea pig, he has to tell himself. He makes his way to the front door and swings it open. He doesn't wait for Stan to give any kind of greeting, he just snatches the basket. "You actually put it in a fucking basket?" he asks, lifting up the blanket for a look.**

**No. Oh fuck no.**

"**Are you fucking retarded?" he asks, pulling out the head of lettuce. "Is this an **_**entire**_** head of lettuce? It's not even in fucking pieces. And…" he pauses, feeling how wet the lettuce actually is. "Is this Iceburg lettuce? Guinea pigs can't fucking have that. Oh my God, how many carrots did you give it? What the fuck, have you cleaned this thing at all?" Craig continues to rant, becoming progressively more angry with each thing he notices is wrong with the basket.**

"**Why the fuck did you even want a guinea pig if you can't even fucking take care of it correctly?" he asks, beyond peeved by now. He grabs Stan by the arm and drags him inside without even asking. He's going to teach this fucking kid a thing or two about guinea pigs so the poor fucking thing doesn't die. He kicks the door shut with his foot, guinea in one hand, Stan in the other, and begins to drag Stan to the stairs that lead to his room.**

"Ow- what the fuck? I've got to get it a cage- that's why it's not cl-" He was tugged into the house without warning though, and Craig had taken the guinea pig out of the basket so he let it fall in the front hall as he tried struggling with the other. "Dude, just fucking get off me, this can wait until later! He needs a cage!"

What was with Craig? It wasn't like he wanted to teach him how to hold a guinea pig two days ago, or even help him out today. He would have asked Kyle, even though he wondered if Kyle would have accepted, if he had known what a douche Craig was going to be about it. One reason he didn't want to ask Kyle though was because Ike wanted a guinea pig - he was trying to keep his guinea pig protected from getting stolen a second time.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Stan said loudly, "Dude. Just fucking let go."

**Craig ignores Stan the whole way to his room, and only lets him go so that he has a hand to open the door with. "Quit your fucking bitching; I'm not going to let you kill this guinea pig with your extreme dumbass-ery," he says, pushing he way into his room. He doesn't explain any further than that, and just moves to collect certain things. He all but pushes Stan over to the bed and sits him down, putting the guinea pig in Stan's lap. "You won't fucking drop it, will you?" he mumbles, turning away from him.**

**He takes a second to just breathe, not looking at Stan because he just wants to punch him in the face for being so fucking stupid. "By the way, that's not an Abyssinian. That's fucking Peruvian," he says, finally turning to look at Stan again. Well, it's more of a glare, but he can't be too picky. He just wants to tell Stan what's up and then get him out of his house.**

"Okay, it's a Peruvian." Stan stared at the guinea pig in his lap, not angry at the guinea pig but slightly glaring at it. Why was Craig so cruel, it wasn't like Stan had been to the pet store - he was going to buy a book on taking care of guinea pigs there. Now he had to endure Craig's condescending 'I know all about guinea pigs' speech, which was extremely irritating.

And not to mention Stan was on Craig's bed, again, which made him even more irate with the situation. Watching Craig walk around collecting stuff, he sighed and pet the guinea pig on his lap absentmindedly. Maybe he could tune Craig out, and think on naming his guinea pig. Well, it was white - what else was white? …Marshmallows? …hey, his last name was Marsh. It could be Mellow Marsh. That was cute.

**Craig goes over to his fridge and pulls out a bag of lettuce. He takes it over to Stan and shows him. "You feed it this kind of lettuce, not fucking iceburg. Iceburg isn't a good idea. It can eat most vegetables, but not cabbage or cauliflower or potatoes or beans or… you know what, you can fucking Google it," he says. He's not about to list everything a guinea pig can't eat, especially since Stan probably won't even remember anyway.**

**He sets the lettuce on the bed, hoping Stan will know not to take it as an offering because no, Craig is keeping that lettuce. He walks over to his door and says, "Don't fucking touch anything," before he goes downstairs for a minute. When he comes back up, he's got a little thing of news paper, which he drops on his floor and immediately opens up another door. He goes inside and turns on a light. Ugh, the storage room. He scans for a minute, trying to locate the old cage. He's not going to give it to Stan, but he needs it to watch the damn guinea pig because if it's a girl, he can't keep it with Stripe. That would be bad. He finally spots it and pulls it out of its spot. It's a little dusty, which pisses him off because it means he'll have to wash it, too. Fuck, why is /Stan's/ guinea pig so much work? He takes it to the bathroom and quickly washes it down before finally coming back into this room and setting it on the floor.**

The minute Craig disappeared, Stan rolled his eyes and then cooed to Mellow, "You're just a sweetheart, I'm sorry I'm leaving you with that douchebag. You'll be okay, though. Hey, want to see his douchebag guinea pig?" He picked Mellow up by the middle, and put a hand under her butt. Then he moved over to the pen with Stripe and set her down, and then went back to sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for Craig to come back. Man, he was gone for awhile. He glanced over at Mellow and Stripe, watching them play. "Huh, that must be like dogs sniffing each other's butt..weird." He furrowed his brow as he tried figuring out what they were doing, but they were purring and acting strange for at least a minute. Looking around Craig's room, he studied everything out of boredom before Craig finally returned.

"Took you for fucking ever. Can I go buy him food now?" Stan said, assuming that his Mellow was a dude.

**Craig finally looks up, seeing that Stan is no longer holding Mellow. "Where's…?" he starts, looking around. No. Stan couldn't have… He sees them then, Stripe and Mello. **_**Together**_**. In what fucking looks to be mid-coitus. "Ugh, what the fuck! Why did you put her in there!" he all but shouts. He moves to the cage and swats Stripe away, who actually wheeks angrily. Craig feels bad for being a cock block, but no. Sorry Stripe, not happening. He snatches up the other guinea pig and thrusts it back into Stan's arms.**

"**I fucking gave her to you for a fucking reason why are you so fucking stupid I swear to fucking God," he says. He doesn't even stop between thoughts; he's caught between angry and slightly panicking. Stripe has never been around a female pig, and he doesn't know how long they were going at it until he stopped them. "Fuck, how did you not fucking notice them doing that!" He's never wanted to hit Stan as badly as he does right now.**

"Doing what?" Stan said, wondering why Craig was freaking out. Then again, he had never seen a guinea pig do it - or play for that matter - so he thought it was normal. Like a dominance thing. "Isn't Mellow a boy?" He looked down at Mellow, who now looks innocent and calm. What was wrong with putting him in there with Stripe?

"Dude, they were just playing, put him back in there. Stripe probably never sees another guinea pig because you're a fucking hermit."

Stan pets Mellow and itches her head, and the guinea pig purred slightly. "Oh my god, he purred! So cute, awww baby," he purred back, lifting her up to lay her on his chest and cuddle her.

"**Are you really that fucking stupid? They were fucking mating, you dumbass," he says, looking back over at Stripe. Poor guy still looks upset at his loss. He looks back at Stan with an angry glare. "I think you should take that fucking thing back to the shelter because you obviously don't know a goddamned thing about it," he says, giving Mello a somewhat sympathetic look. He feels bad for her, he really does. Having a fucking owner as dense as fucking Marsh.**

"Fuck you, Tucker. I'm leaving." He got up from the bed with Mellow on his chest, and then walked over to the cage. Opening the door, he put her inside on the newspaper and then shut it and lifted it from the bottom.

"**No, hey, what the fuck, you're not taking that fucking cage," he says, stopping Stan before he can pick it up. "I only fucking got it out because I didn't want to leave the two of them in the same fucking cage **_**so they wouldn't fuck**_**," he says, narrowing his eyes at Stan. "Because you know as well as I do what fucking happens when you're the only two living things in a room. This cage stays here," he says. "You can go spend your own fucking money on a cage."**

"Okay, fine. I'm leaving then." Stan said, setting the cage down as he bent at the knees, and then stood up to glare at Craig. Without saying another word, he went to the door. Poor Mellow…first day and Stripe tries to marry her. What a lucky girl - saved, and then screwed.

**Craig wants nothing more than to just let Stan leave, but he's thinking too much about that poor fucking doomed guinea pig. He takes a calming breath and gives Stripe a pleading glance, asking him to tell him this is a bad idea. Stripe just looks at him, still annoyed. Craig sighs and covers his face with his hand in frustration. "Ugh, do you want me to fucking go with you? You obviously don't know what you're doing and I'm worried about the damn cavy," he says. He slightly regrets saying that he's worried, but who the fuck cares at this point when they've already said so much fucked up shit to each other**

"No, I don't want you to come with me," Stan replied plainly, yanking open the door and sending a glare in Craig's direction. "I'm fine. I'll buy a book on it and ask the clerks. So fuck off and watch the guinea pig."

He shut the door behind him, intending to escape down the steps and jog home. Maybe if he moved fast enough he wouldn't have to get in a car with Craig Tucker - he really didn't want to have a twenty minute car ride both ways with Craig, or have to be out in public with him.

**Craig just scoffs when Stan walks away. Fine, if the bastard doesn't want his fucking help then he'll stop caring. He gets Mellow some water and a piece of the correct lettuce before burying himself in his bed. If he refuses to interact with Mellow, then he won't get attached and feel bad for sending her off with Stan-the-dumbass. He hears stripe making a bunch of noise and shoots him s glare. "No, shut the fuck up, you can't have her," he says.**

**It kind of disturbs him that his and Stan's pets just tried to mate. What the actual fuck. Why does Stripe get to - no. Stop thinking that way. He puts his pillow over his head to block out Stripe's noise and tries to just take a nap. If he sleeps the whole time, then he won't have to think about any of this. Especially not fucking Stan. Fuck Stan, seriously. He's ruining everything, and now he has a fucking guinea pig; the perfect excuse to bother Craig.**

**He peeks out from behind his pillow to look at Mellow, who just happens to be staring up at him. He groans and shoves his head back under the pillow. No, he refuses to think she's cute. He will not get attached to Stan's fucking pet. He closes his eyes tight and just focuses on trying to take this nap.**

About an hour and a half later, Stan knocks on the Tucker household door again. He had bought a huge 40" cage, and made sure it didn't have a wire bottom. Then he bought two water bottles, a lego-piece house, three wood toys that were super cute, including a wooden ice cream cone and a wooden hamburger. In his hand, he had another wooden hamburger that was still in the package. There was a food bowl, a vegetable bowl, a hay holder - he had bought about two hundred dollars worth of stuff, and he knew he would be working longer weekends now.

"Damnit, what the fuck." He took out his phone and texted Craig.

- Dude. stop hugging my guinea pig and bring him down.

**Craig vaguely hears his phone going off, but he ignores it. He's finally gotten to sleep, and maybe be if he ignores it, he'll be able to keep sleeping. He just buries his head further under his pillow and brings his arm further into his chest. He would tug on his blankets, but in the process of trying to pull them up earlier, he'd gotten them stuck on his boots and was too lazy to untangle them from his legs at the risk of seeing Mellow do something cute so he just left them there. He doesn't even care, just fuck everything today.**

Stan finally tried the door handle - it seemed to be unlocked. Then again, few people locked their doors in South Park. Opening it up, he walked up the stairs as he pocketed his phone and then went up the stairs to the attic. Opening the door, he looked inside before stepping in, realizing Craig looked like he was asleep. Or suffocating himself, he wasn't really sure. It was sort of cute …no. Not really cute.

Walking over to Mellow, he bent down to take the top off so he could scoop her up in his arms and then said, "Awww, you sweet thing - no, this is for Stripe," He held the chew toy away when she sniffed it, and then he got up to place the wooden hamburger in Stripe's pen. Then he pet Mellow on the head and gave her a light kiss. She huffed and he itched her head with his other hand, having her cradled in the nook of his right arm. "Bye Stripe," He whispered, figuring Craig was trying to sleep. So, he decided to start walking quietly to the door without acknowledging the other boy.

**Craig is somewhat aware of someone opening his door, but he decides to not care. If it's Stan, hopefully he'll just collect his damn guinea pig and leave. He hears Stan whisper a few times, but his pillow distorts Stan's voice. Before he can really stop himself from speaking, he says, "You're fucking welcome, asshat." He curses himself for even speaking at all, especially since his voice is all muffled by the pillow and he probably sounded really stupid, but whatever. As long as Stan fucking leaves and takes that damned guinea pig with him.**

Stan pauses when he hears something that sounds like 'irva combat', but he was pretty sure that wasn't what Craig said. He walked over to the other's bed and reached down with his free hand to yank the pillow off Craig's face. Staring at Craig for a moment he threw the pillow on the other side of the bed, and then put his hand back on Mellow's head.

"Thanks." He said plainly, and then went for the door again cuddling Mellow. Lowering his voice, half un-aware that Craig was still in the room because he was focused so much on the furry ball of adorableness nestled in his arms, he started whispering, "You're the best marshmallow ever, I've got you all this cool stuff and I bought a carrying case so you have a safe spot in the car on the way home, and you're going to like the cuddle cup I bought you.."

"**Ugh, don't touch my fucking stuff," he mumbled, pulling the pillow back over his head. The room got suddenly really bright wend Stan removed the pillow, and Craig didn't really appreciate it. He mumbles a few more obstinacies under the pillow and curls in on himself, still to lazy to pull his blankets away from his tangled legs. Fuck, Stan should just fucking leave. Craig is sick of hearing form him and he's sick of Stan being in his house. He really just doesn't want anything to do with Stan; he's making it hard to live normally anymore, even going so far as to fuck with Craig's sleeping schedule.**

Stan shrugged it off, and then opened the door open and disappeared down the steps. What a grumpy napper, he thought - he really hated when people were bitchy after they woke up. Granted, he was too, but anything Craig did pissed him off even if it was the same thing he did.

"Let's go home Mellow," He said with another quick kiss on her furry head, between her dark ears.

**Craig continues to lay there for a few minutes, trying to fall back asleep, but he soon finds that it's useless. He groans and sits up, letting the pillow fall of his head and onto the mattress. He looks at the emptied cage and contemplates putting it back in the storage space. Then he looks over at Stripe, because he hears some kind of obnoxious chewing noise.**

"**What the fuck are you doing, Stripe?" he asks, but then his voice falls a bit. His heart beats a little quicker when he sees a new toy in the cage. Did Stan…?**

**Shit.**

**Fuck, motherfucker, shit.**

**Did Stan buy Stripe a new toy? The tiny fluttering in his chest starts to hurt, and he glares at the toy in an attempt to make it go away. There's no way Stan bought Stripe a fucking toy. No fucking way.**

**No.**

**Just no.**

**Why does Stan have to fucking do shit like this? It only makes things that much harder for Craig to fucking forget about him. It makes it **_**really**_** fucking hard. Especially now that Stan did something that… **_**nice**_** for Stripe. No, it wasn't fucking sweet, it was just nice.**

**He'd had the intent of getting up, but now he just fucking can't. Now all he wants to do it curl back up in his bed and forget that he's even alive. Yeah, that sounds like a great fucking plan. So that's what he does; he flops back down on his bed, back to Stripe, and actually manages to pull the cover up over his shoulders this time.**

**Fuck.**

**Just… fuck.**


	9. 05 12 2012 a

05.12.2012

* * *

**Craig Tucker:** So don't even respond to this because I really don't want to talk, but I saw that toy you bought Stripe and I just

**Craig Tucker:** Thanks

**Stan Marsh:** …your welcome

**Stan Marsh:** does he like it?

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, he does.

**Stan Marsh:** that's cool..mellow doesn't really like hers, she goes for those ice cream cone things

**Craig Tucker: **…that's cool. Look, I'm not looking to talk today so just don't, okay?

**Stan Marsh: **why not?

**Craig Tucker: **Because I really just don't want to

**Stan Marsh: **why?

**Stan Marsh: **you're being a real bastard.

**Craig Tucker: **Why am I being a bastard? I took care of your guinea pig and thanked you for the toy; what more do you want?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know.

**Stan Marsh: **so if my guinea pig is pregnant, does that make us grand parents?

**Craig Tucker: **No, stop, we aren't grandparents

**Stan Marsh: **why wouldn't we be

**Craig Tucker: **Because fuck that; they can be YOUR grandkids. Not mine. I don't want anything to do with you and kids.

**Stan Marsh: **aww come on craig

**Stan Marsh: **imagine tiny guinea pigs

**Stan Marsh: **with tiny paws

**Stan Marsh: **how do you think they'd feel if their other grandpa abandoned them

**Craig Tucker: **No, I'm not grandparenting with you

**Stan Marsh: **you're going to break their tiny little guinea pig hearts

**Stan Marsh: **before they even breath :(

**Craig Tucker: **Stop

**Stan Marsh: **why?

**Stan Marsh: **okay, is it wrong that I just like talking to you?

**Stan Marsh: **it's entertaining.

**Stan Marsh: **why don't you want to talk .

**Craig Tucker: **Stop liking talking to me

**Craig Tucker: **Really

**Stan Marsh: **no.

**Stan Marsh: **make me.

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh

**Stan Marsh: **strong arugment there

**Stan Marsh: **argument.

**Stan Marsh: **god I'm getting like you. can't spell worth shit.

**Craig Tucker: **Don't tell me things like "you like talking to me"

**Craig Tucker: **That's fucked up

**Craig Tucker: **You hate me

**Stan Marsh: **I like hating you. there's a difference.

**Craig Tucker: **…didn't your girlfriend forbid you to talk to me anyway?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah.

**Craig Tucker: **Then why aren't you listening to her?

**Stan Marsh: **…because I like hating you.

**Craig Tucker: **Enough to risk pissing Wendy off?

**Stan Marsh: **are you going to go tell her?

**Craig Tucker: **No, I'm not even going to talk to her.

**Stan Marsh: **then ok

**Stan Marsh: **why not talk then.

**Craig Tucker: **Because I don't want to.

**Craig Tucker: **It's that simple.

**Stan Marsh: **really?

**Stan Marsh: **you don't even want to talk to me a little?

**Craig Tucker: **No, not really. You're making my life hard.

**Stan Marsh: **how so?

**Craig Tucker: **You just are. And you're fucking up my sleep patterns by talking to me all night.

**Stan Marsh: **you love it.

**Craig Tucker: **No.

**Stan Marsh: **yes you do.

**Craig Tucker: **No.

**Stan Marsh: **Yes you do.

**Craig Tucker: **No.

**Stan Marsh: **Yes

**Craig Tucker: **No.

**Stan Marsh: **Yes

**Craig Tucker: **Fuck you.

**Stan Marsh: **Fuck you.

**Craig Tucker: **Is there a point to this? Because even if you like talking to me, this isn't even talking. It's bitching.

**Stan Marsh: **you're bitching, I'm talking

**Stan Marsh: **so?

**Craig Tucker: **So you like me bitching at you?

**Stan Marsh: **why won't you just admit you like me.

**Craig Tucker: **Because I don't.

**Stan Marsh: **Come on.

**Stan Marsh: **Say it.

**Craig Tucker: **No.

**Stan Marsh: **Say it

**Craig Tucker: **There's nothing to say

**Stan Marsh: **besides that you love me and can't stop responding to every word I send

**Craig Tucker: **Then I'll stop.

**Stan Marsh: **…

**Stan Marsh: **don't

**Stan Marsh: **want to hang out?

**Stan Marsh: **…

**Stan Marsh: **please?

**Stan Marsh: **dude, come on

**Stan Marsh: **are you seriously ignoring me

**Stan Marsh: **fuck you, craig.

**Stan Marsh: **you know what? I really do hate you.

**Craig Tucker: **Thank you.

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Stan Marsh: **fuck you

**Stan Marsh: **with freddy kreuger's claw, bastard

**Craig Tucker: **Yep.

**Craig Tucker: **Are you done now?

**Stan Marsh: **no.

**Craig Tucker: **…

**Craig Tucker: **Stop.

**Stan Marsh: **No.

**Craig Tucker: **What would you want to hang out with me for anyway? All we do it fight.

**Stan Marsh: **i don't know.

**Craig Tucker: **Well that's a fantastic reason.

**Craig Tucker: **Really convincing.

**Stan Marsh: **what reason do you want?

**Craig Tucker: **I don't want a good reason, because I don't want to do it anyways.

**Stan Marsh: **fine, I'll give you a fucking reason.

**Stan Marsh: **after spending four unbearable days with you, I miss you.

**Craig Tucker: **…you miss me.

**Stan Marsh: **Yes. I miss your stupid face.

**Craig Tucker: **My pointy face.

**Stan Marsh: **yeah.

**Craig Tucker: **Well that's still not what I wanted to hear. Actually, it's pretty much the opposite.

**Craig Tucker: **I don't want this. We hate each other.

**Stan Marsh: **yeah, whatever.

**Stan Marsh: **Fuck you

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not responding anymore

**Craig Tucker: **Okay.

* * *

**Craig stares at his AIM box, becoming more and more frustrated as the seconds pass. Why does Stan have to like him? Why does Stan have to like talking to him? Why does Stan have to do shit like come to his house and confess? Or buy Stripe a toy?**

**Why did he buy Stripe that fucking toy?**

**He looks over at his guinea pig, who is happily gnawing away at the little wooden burger, and lets out a strangled groan.**

**This needs to fucking stop. Stan needs to be told what's fucking what, and he needs to fucking stop this bullshit before he fucks up Craig's relationship with Kenny permanently. Craig doesn't like Stan enough to risk that… probably.**

**No, he **_**definitely**_** wouldn't risk it. Fuck Stan. No – fuck **_**Marsh**_**.**

**In a rash decision, he stands and starts gathering up his things. He's going to fucking go over there and give Stan a piece of his fucking mind. This needs to fucking stop. Craig doesn't like Stan, and Stan needs to stop making things fucking worse.**

**Keys in hand, he all storms out of his house and rolls away in his car. It's really not worth the drive, but he doesn't even care. All he fucking wants is to go over there, tell Stan to back the fuck off, and then go home. Simple as that.**

**He pulls into Stan's driveway and all but slams his door. He storms up to the front door and tries the handle. Thankfully, it's open. He doesn't need anyone knowing he's here. He looks around and assumes that Stan's room must be upstairs. His directional sense helps him find the stairs quickly and once he's upstairs he looks around again. How will he know which room it is?**

**Ah – of course – the one with the fucking Broncos poster on it.**

**He opens the door and instantly reels back at the danger zone inside. There's shit fucking everywhere; he can barely even see the floor. He looks down and there's a little patch of floor cleared off for Mellow. Craig rolls his eyes at that. At least this asshole had enough sense to clear floor space instead of just putting the cage on top of the mounds of shit.**

**His eyes finally land on Stan, with his fucking sound blocker headphones. No wonder he hasn't noticed Craig standing there yet. Initial shock of the room aside, he wades his way through the trash to stand behind Stan. He unavoidably catches sight of Stan's screen.**

**What? Stan is still staring at Craig's chatbox? What the fuck. He also vaguely hears Pain, by Three Days Grace, playing through Stan's headphones. Is this kid **_**trying**_** to be an ironic asshole? This kid **_**really**_** needs to be told to fucking quit. Craig does **_**not**_**like him, and nothing Stan can do will change that.**

**He glares at Stan's other messages to Kyle, saying how much of a dick Craig is, and moves his hand to tap Stan's shoulder. He realizes at the last second that he never figured out what he wants to say, but his dilemma is ignored by the fact that he's already touched Stan. Well, fuck.**

Stan was mid typing more crap about Craig and Kenny, and then he felt a taping on his shoulder. Usually it was his mother, so he moved to minimize his windows slowly, and then he took off his headphones and opened his mouth to say 'Hi Mom', and before he could begin he glanced over his shoulder and saw Craig standing there. He stared with a blank expression, trying to figure out if he was suddenly delusional or if Craig actually trespassed and entered his room. Turning back around he unminimized Kyle's window and wrote to him, 'Craig's standing in my room. brb.'

He turned his spin computer chair and then stared at Craig. "What?"

**Craig doesn't say anything for a second, still not sure what he's going to say. He tries to regain his pissed face, because he **_**is**_**pissed, but right now his unsureness is winning out. He came here to tell Stan to fuck off, right? He came here to tell Stan that he doesn't like him, and that he never will, and that he likes Kenny more. He likes Kenny a lot more.**

**So why is it so hard to say, now that he's looking Stan in the face?**

"**Uh… I came over here to tell you to fuck off, but…" he stops, trying to figure out but what. He doesn't continue, just glares at Stan.**

Amazingly, Stan seems to keep his composure even though he's wondering why the hell Craig is in his room with such a shitty excuse. If he wanted to say fuck off, he could have done it over AIM. Part of the reason for staying so apathetic to the situation was due to Stan's irritation that everyone in the house never locked the damn door. Soon people would be walking out with stuff, and they wouldn't even know unless they did it in front of them.

With a less than amused expression etched on his face, he said, "But?"

**Without really thinking it through, he says, "But I kind of missed you too."**

**As soon as the words leave his lips, he feels a terrible sinking in his chest. He doesn't mean that. No. He didn't miss Stan. No, fuck that. He did **_**not**_** miss Stan.**

**He tries to turn to leave, just to get out of Stan's house. Okay yeah, going there was a terrible fucking idea.**

For a moment Stan's impassivity faltered and he appeared to be a bit shocked, like Craig had thrown him off. He really wasn't expecting that the other even would pay attention to a comment like that, and he wasn't really sure when he sent it if it was what he wanted to bring up. Returning to a look void of expression, he glared slightly at Craig's receding figure and said,

"Fucking douchebag. Go ahead and leave, I don't really want to talk to you either." Obviously, he was using the skill of sarcasm as he spoke, but inwardly he was kind of irritated that he cared that the other was leaving after making a comment like that. What an asshole. Turning towards his computer screen, he looked at Kyle's chat box and then looked at the keys with a hint of glum.

**Craig stops, about half way to the door. He doesn't turn back to Stan, but he can feel himself aching. Why is everything so hard…?**

"**I don't want to miss you, Stan," he says. It's the first time he thinks he's ever said Stan's first name out loud, and it feels weird to say. But he continues speaking anyway. "All I want is to be there for Kenny, and you're making that really hard to do. So just… stop making me miss you," he says. It sounds completely uncharacteristic, and he kind of wonders if he'd actually said it out loud or if he was hallucinating, but either way, there it was. And he can't take it back now. By now he's depressed himself completely, and all he wants to do is fucking leave. Being here is a bad idea.**

Staring at his keyboard dejectedly as Craig spoke, Stan didn't move to turn the chair around. He didn't really understand what Craig was trying to say. With a sinking feeling in his chest he tried to ignore the other, maybe he'd just get annoyed if he didn't pay attention to what Craig was thinking. But, unfortunately, he was tuning in to the words whether he liked it or not, simply because it was unusual and not something that could be considered background noise. Glancing to the side, though still not turning his chair, he said out loud, "I'm not making you do anything, jackass."

**Craig scoffs and wants to retaliate, but he can't even bring himself to walk away. What's even going on right now? "Right because I'm fucking doing it to myself," he says after a few drawn out seconds. Time really feels like it's not moving, and this terrible feeling in Craig's chest just won't go the fuck away. Things just need to go back to the way they were; back to the way it was before this whole locker room incident.**

He finally turned his chair around slowly to look at Craig, and gave him a purely puzzled look. Was Craig seriously blaming him for him missing Stan? With a frown he replied , "I'm not going to do anything, so you can leave."

He thought of Wendy and his agreement, even though accompanied with that argument was the thought of a strap on - he really didn't want to think about it.

"Dude, just get out of my room."

**Craig narrows his eyes, even though Stan can't see because he's faced toward the door. "Right, I'm fucking leaving," he says. It's quiet, and maybe even a little dejected, but he doesn't care. He's done here if Stan it just going to be a dick. He moves again toward the door, intending on leaving.**

Did he sound mournful as he left? Stan's already narrowed eyes narrowed even more. He was really trying to keep Kyle's 'avoid Craig' speech to heart, because he didn't want to get in any more trouble with Wendy. But he felt like he was hurting Craig in the process, and even if it was a weird feeling, he got up out of his chair and walked past Craig, and shut the door and put his hand on it so the other couldn't leave. Turning to stare at him, he had one eyebrow raised as he waited to see what Craig would do.

**Craig scowls at Stan as the other blocks his exit. What the fuck, Craig is trying to leave. "Didn't you just tell me to get out?" he asks, tying to push a bit of his spite back into his voice. "I'm doing what you asked; you should be fucking happy," he says. He doesn't make any moves though. He doesn't feel the energy anymore to do anything about it. He'd stand there all night if that's what Stan fucking wanted because he's not about to fight to get through the damn door.**

"Dude, you really are messed up." Stan commented idly as he kept his outstretched palm practically glued to the door, his eyes focused on Craig's face.

"You never do stuff that makes other people happy. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He felt like prying at the issue, but instead he just opted for vocally making it uncomfortable. Somewhere in his mind he already knew what the problem was - but he really didn't want to say it out loud for fear of being one up'd or have Craig pull a jackass stunt on him.

**Craig rolls his eyes, despite how shaken he's starting to feel. He wants the fuck out. He's never been this way before, and he doesn't want to deal with it. He just wants to go talk to Stipe and fall asleep with his iPod turned up really loud. Oh yeah, Craig can't even peacefully talk to Stripe anymore because his new favorite fucking toy is that goddamned burger.**

"**I'm not fucking messed up," is all he manages to say, glaring off in some random direction in the room. His gaze lands on Mellow, and he can't bring himself to glare at the guinea pig, so he shifts his gaze again. He just fucking wants out, why is that so much to ask?**

His hand edged down towards the door knob, his back still against the door. He really didn't want his parents to hear another guy's voice in his room this late at night - especially someone they didn't know. But at the same time, Craig's dismissiveness finally had gotten to him, and he wanted to know what was going on. He hated not solving issues that involved him. If he was a problem, he wanted to know about it. Just hating him might have worked out prior to the locker room but now it seemed…strange.

Noting Craig's eye roll and shifting gaze, he frowned even more.

"Then why aren't you pushing me out of the way so you can leave?"

"**Because I don't want to fight. And I figure your parents won't appreciate shouting. I don't have anything against them; no reason to keep them from sleeping," he says. That last part it total bullshit, but he doesn't know if Stan will pick up on it or not. Normal people wouldn't, but then again Stan's been hanging around him a lot the past week; who knows what he might pick up on.**

"**Can I go?" he asks absently, trying to not even think anymore. If he just stops thinking, he won't have to think about what's happening, or what it might mean.**

Stan's plain expression, the one he had been maintaining for awhile now, continued to be so passive that there wasn't a traceable hint of finding any other emotion. However, underneath he was being stubborn and Craig's excuses were tiring him. With his hand on the door knob, he gave Craig a very straightforward, "No."

**Craig gives a bit of a frustrated sigh, but still makes no move to try and push Stan out of the way. All he does is cross his arms over his chest, continuing to slowly scan Stan's room as a way to distract himself. This place **_**really **_**needs cleaned. "Why not?" is all he asks, not caring to argue it. All he wants know is why, then maybe he can fix whatever it is and leave.**

He glanced at the handle of the door, and then back at Craig with a hesitant look before he proceeded.

"I'm not letting you out until you tell me how I make you feel."

**Craig feels his stomach drop a little, and a fluttering empty space fill it's void, when he hears Stan's demand. "How you make me feel?" he repeats, stalling answering the actual question. How does Stan make Craig feel…**

"**I hate you," is his simple answer. Because it's true. He fucking hates Stan. He hates Stan down to every last detail, including how much Craig is starting to actually like him. That thing today with Stripe and the burger was the last straw. Craig… likes him. And he fucking hates Stan for it. He finally looks up to look Stan in the eye. It's not a hard stare, more checking to make sure Stan bought it so he can leave.**

"You don't hate me," Stan said rather blandly, as if he were calling Craig on his bull shit.

"If you hated me you would shove me out of the way and leave my room. Instead you're just standing there like you're waiting for me to move, which is not happening. I really fucking hate you, Craig. You're a fucking liar and you're not fooling anyone."

**Craig narrows his eyes, snapping back into a bit of his earlier hostility. "What do you want me to fucking say? Do you want me to tell you I like you? What are you going to fucking do if I do? Act on it? Fucking take me away from Kenny? What does it even fucking matter?" he asks, he glares at Stan, wanting nothing more than to hit something. He's not even really mad at Stan right now, he's mad at himself. He's fucking pissed with himself for having these feelings to begin with. Why should he like Stan? Because Stan bought his guinea pig a toy? That's a terrible fucking reason. Craig likes Kenny. Craig should take care of Kenny.**

"It doesn't." Stan twisted the door knob, and moved to pull the door open as he moved to the side. With an icy tone, he said, "Get the fuck out, Craig."

He wasn't too pleased with what the other had said, and he was getting too frustrated to have the other in his room. In his mind, he was going over what he'd tell Wendy - yes, Craig came over, no, he didn't do anything. But did he want to do something? Possibly, which made his frustration increase.

"Just get the fuck out."

**Craig embraces the glare, it making him feel a little better about himself. Yeah, Craig and Stan hate each other. This is all their relationship is; fights, hard words, and icy glares. "Thanks," he says, but it's still a little more flat than angry. He was going for angry, but he supposes this is just as good. Whatever. He moves to walk through the newly opened door, tearing his eyes away from Stan's.**

"I like you, you cold bastard. More than I hate you. So don't fucking come near me." Stan said abruptly, and shut the door behind Craig. Then he put his back up against the door and sunk down to the floor, staring at Mellow's cage. She was sitting there eating hay happily, as if she were already used to Stan's issues.

**Craig's eyes shut painfully at Stan's words. No. Stan can't keep telling Craig things like "I like you." It needs to fucking stop. "Yeah, you don't need to worry about that," he says, not knowing if Stan will be able to hear it or not. It hurts, somehow, but he pushes it down. Fuck if it hurts. It doesn't matter.  
He walks away from Stan's door and exits the house. His movements are slow, like his body can't keep up with what's happening. The drive home feels slow, too. Everything is just… fuck.**

**When he gets back in his room, he takes off his boots and crawls back into bed. He pulls up his comforter and shuts his eyes. It's hard to sleep, though, when Stripe's teeth click so loud against that wooden burger.**


	10. 05 13 2012

05.13.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh:** hey craig.

**Craig Tucker:** No, don't talk to me. I'm not responding.

**Stan Marsh:** no, just hear me out

**Stan Marsh:** we're trying to ignore this but I don't think that's working out. It's only making it worse.

**Stan Marsh:** why don't we hang out, remember how much we hate each other, and have things go back to the way they were?

**Stan Marsh:** I'm sure if we spent a lot of time together doing things outside of being trapped in a room together, we would hate it.

**Craig Tucker:** No.

**Stan Marsh:** dude, seriously

**Stan Marsh:** I'm serious

**Stan Marsh:** I'm positive if we spend time together, we will hate each other, Craig.

**Stan Marsh:** do you really want to continue ignoring me and having this get worse?

**Craig Tucker:** Yes. I want to continue ignoring you.

**Stan Marsh:** Goddamnit Craig

**Stan Marsh:** It's going to make everything worse to ignore it

**Craig Tucker: **No it won't. There's nothing to make worse.

**Stan Marsh: **yeah. like last night was nothing.

**Craig Tucker: **It was nothing.

**Stan Marsh: **It wasn't nothing, you asshole.

**Craig Tucker: **Then what was it?

**Craig Tucker: **Because I didn't see anything.

**Stan Marsh: **Because you were so overwhelmed by feelings you were blinded, probably

**Craig Tucker: **Right, well all I remember is you telling me to stay away from you, and then you IMing me just now. Funny how that happens every time you tell me to fuck off.

**Stan Marsh: **You told me that you missed me and blamed me for making you miss me.

**Stan Marsh: **I was listening, dickwad.

**Stan Marsh: **I threw you out because I don't want my family wondering why there's random guys in my room late at night.

**Craig Tucker: **I don't care what I said, I just want you to leave me the fuck alone.

**Stan Marsh: **you're going to make it worse.

**Craig Tucker: **No, YOU'RE making it worse by talking to me.

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not

**Craig Tucker: **Whatever, I'm done talking to you.

**Stan Marsh: **…ugh

**Stan Marsh: **Look.

**Stan Marsh: **if you keep ignoring me you're just going to like me more because you're going to make believe I'm something I'm not. So why not just crush that hope and just find out I'm a major bastard, just like you are, and we're not compatible at all.

**Stan Marsh: **What happened in the locker room was a fluke, Craig

**Craig Tucker: **I don't like you. All I want is to forget you exist, go back to never talking to you, and be fucking normal again with Kenny.

**Craig Tucker: **That's it.

**Stan Marsh: **It's not going to happen. We see each other every day at school.

**Craig Tucker: **Not if I don't fucking look.

**Craig Tucker: **Just stop; I'm not going to hang out with you. I don't want to IM you. I don't want anything to do with you.

**Stan Marsh: **Face it, we're going to be seeing each other regardless if we try not to.

**Stan Marsh: **Admit it, you like me. You don't want to but you do. I'm going to admit I like you too, but I'm not going to go anywhere with that because I think I just like something that doesn't really exist.

**Stan Marsh: **So let's figure that out by hanging out and then we can go back to Wendy and Kenny and never think about it again.

**Craig Tucker: **There's a reason people hang out with me, you know. If you start seeing more of me, you'll just see more of the parts you like instead of the parts you hate. If we go back to ignoring each other like we used to, all you'll see is the douchebag you hate so much.

**Stan Marsh: **No, I don't think so.

**Craig Tucker: **That's why you hated me before.

**Craig Tucker: **And after spending three days with me, started to like me.

**Stan Marsh: **I spent hours trying to do assignments with you and I hated you more afterwards.

**Stan Marsh: **It was a fluke.

**Craig Tucker: **Right. I'm still not hanging out with you.

**Stan Marsh: **Do it.

**Stan Marsh: **Your way isn't working.

**Craig Tucker: **My way isn't working because you keep talking to me even when I tell you to fuck off.

**Craig Tucker: **If you'd stop, my way would fucking work.

**Stan Marsh: **I didn't talk to you for two days.

**Stan Marsh: **And nothing changed.

**Stan Marsh: **Just do it.

**Craig Tucker: **What two days did you not talk to me? Must have fucking missed those two days, because you've talked to me every single day since we got home from the hospital.

**Stan Marsh: **whatever.

**Stan Marsh: **you're just going to make it worse

**Stan Marsh: **Why don't you think we could be **friends**?

**Craig Tucker: **Why would I _want _to be friends?

**Stan Marsh: **Because you like me.

**Stan Marsh: **That's why you hid like a valley girl with a crush under a pillow so you didn't have to see my face when I walked in your room to pick up Mellow.

**Craig Tucker: **I didn't know you were fucking there, you just walked into my room. Your goddamn guinea pig was making Stripe go fucking crazy and it was annoying so I was trying to block out the sound.

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah, whatever.

**Stan Marsh: **Not buying it

**Craig Tucker: **You don't have to because I don't fucking care. Are you done talking yet?

**Craig Tucker: **Because I'm sick of seeing your name on my screen.

**Stan Marsh: **Just..please.

**Craig Tucker: **Please what?

**Stan Marsh: **Please try it my way and see what happens

**Stan Marsh: **if it doesn't work, we can go back to ignoring each other.

**Craig Tucker: **What the fuck would we even do if we hung out? No.

**Stan Marsh: **play video games or something

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **normal stuff

**Craig Tucker: **You mean stuff friends do with friends because they like each other? Fun stuff? How exactly is playing video games together going to make us hate each other?

**Stan Marsh: **okay, it won't. But at least as friends it won't be fucking awkward to be around you anymore.

**Stan Marsh: **I can't stand classes with you, Craig.

**Stan Marsh: **It's unfuckingbearable.

**Craig Tucker: **…I don't care. Just fucking ignore me like I ignore you. It's easy.

**Craig Tucker: **Just pay the fuck attention to the teacher

**Stan Marsh: **It's not going to work, you moron

**Stan Marsh: **You can't tell me you don't feel the same way because you were in my fucking room last night, uninvited, watching me for who the fuck knows how long on the computer.

**Craig Tucker: **I came and fucking went, asshole. I tried to make it a quick trip, but you wouldn't let me fucking leave

**Stan Marsh: **Because you didn't want to fucking leave, did you

**Stan Marsh: **Just like you didn't want me to leave

**Stan Marsh: **Just admit it Craig

**Craig Tucker: **No. I wanted to fucking leave because I can't stand being in the same fucking room as you.

**Stan Marsh: **I hate you.

**Stan Marsh: **You're so ignorant about every fucking thing.

**Stan Marsh: **I just hate you. Fuck you.

**Craig Tucker: **How is that being ignorant? I didn't want to fucking be near you.

**Craig Tucker: **It was killing me.

**Craig Tucker: **Wait

**Craig Tucker: **Um

**Stan Marsh: **You think it's not doing that to me?

**Craig Tucker: **So why would you want to fucking hang out! That's seems pretty fucking counterproductive!

**Stan Marsh: **I almost asked my girlfriend to go on a break today because I'm fucking confused about what's going on here. I'm tired of it. I don't care how we fucking fix it, but we're going to fix it because I'm not going to be confused for the rest of senior year because of you.

**Craig Tucker: **…you did what

**Craig Tucker: **You realize that no matter what you do, I'm still with Kenny, right?

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah.

**Stan Marsh: **Obviously.

**Stan Marsh: **And I'm not going to do that to Kenny.

**Stan Marsh: **But I can't handle any relationship thing right now because of this, so we're going to fix it, you asshole.

**Craig Tucker: **Then why the _fuck_ would you ask to go on a break with Wendy if you're not intending on getting with me? That's fucked up. There's no way to fix this; just fucking let it die.

**Stan Marsh: **So you want that?

**Stan Marsh: **Me to get with you?

**Craig Tucker: **No, fuck, I'm just saying why the fuck would you even try to go on a break with your girlfriend to fix things with me? Nothing is going to happen, so why not just stay with her?

**Stan Marsh: **I said I was going on a break to figure things out. Not to date you, moron.

**Stan Marsh: **But yeah, I'm staying with my girlfriend.

**Craig Tucker: **Nothing you do makes any fucking sense.

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not hanging out with you.

**Stan Marsh: **Only because it's not what you want to hear.

**Stan Marsh: **That's why it doesn't make any sense to you.

**Craig Tucker: **No, it doesn't make any sense because you're fucking stupid. What did Wendy have to say when you suggested this break to "figure things out?" I bet she said it was fucking stupid too.

**Stan Marsh: **Why do you want to know?

**Stan Marsh: **Why do you care?

**Stan Marsh: **Wait, let me guess. You don't really care, "go the fuck away Marsh".

**Craig Tucker: **I was only making a fucking point because you know I'm not the only one that said it doesn't make any fucking sense.

**Stan Marsh: **Fuck you.

**Craig Tucker: **So I was right?

**Craig Tucker: **You just want to hang out with me because you think I'm going to realize I have feelings for you or something and then we'll live happily ever fucking after.

**Craig Tucker: **Well that's not going to happen.

**Stan Marsh: **no.

**Stan Marsh: **Well, actually

**Stan Marsh: **this is doing a pretty good job at reminding me why I rejected you in the first place.

**Craig Tucker: **Good; maybe then you'll leave me the fuck alone.

**Stan Marsh: **Yep.

**Stan Marsh: **But you know

**Stan Marsh: **absence makes the heart grow fonder

**Stan Marsh: **so you're royally fucking us both over, you asshole.

**Craig Tucker: **Great, I'll deal with that on my own, thanks.

**Craig Tucker: **I think I'll be okay.

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah, right.

**Stan Marsh: **Like you were okay yesterday, right.

**Craig Tucker: **No, I wasn't fucking okay yesterday. Just like I won't be okay if we start fucking hanging out. Fuck you, how many times do I have to tell you that I don't want to fucking see you?

**Stan Marsh: **You don't want to see me because you hate me, you don't want to see me because you like me.

**Stan Marsh: **Fuck you.

**Stan Marsh: **I know already.

**Stan Marsh: **I've spent years calling you on your fucking bullshit, Craig.

**Craig Tucker: **Why does it matter why I don't want to see you? Either way, I still fucking don't want to hang out with you, because both of those seem like they'd end badly to me.

**Stan Marsh: **Fine, have your fucking silence

**Stan Marsh: **I hope you enjoy it

**Craig Tucker: **Thanks, I appreciate it.

**Stan Marsh: **Wait. Why do I have to look at your stupid name online if you're ignoring me? Block me.

**Stan Marsh: **Block me

**Stan Marsh: **Block me

**Stan Marsh: **Block me

**Stan Marsh: **Block me

**Stan Marsh: **Blockkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk meeeeeeeeeeee

**Craig Tucker: **Why would I put that much effort into it when I can just as easily let you think I'm paying attention when really I'm just sitting across the room, listening to my iPod. See, here I go.

**Stan Marsh: **BLOCK. ME.

**Stan Marsh: **Don't make me come over there.

**Stan Marsh: **I swear to god Tucker I will go to your house at 1 in the morning.

**Stan Marsh: **BLOCK ME NOW.

* * *

Around 12:30, Stan grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair and put it on over his pajamas. He was too pissed to think clearly. How dare Craig ignore him after making comments like he had earlier. Why wouldn't the asshole just BLOCK him if he didn't want to talk? Stan could easily block Craig, but he refused to be the dick who resorted to ignoring the other to solve the obvious issue that needed to be fixed. It took him ten minutes to walk over to Craig's house, with his boots on over his feet because he wasn't wearing any socks; his pajamas were simply navy plaid flannel. His hat was on however, he managed to grab that off the table as he stormed out.

Approaching the others house, he slowly neared the door and then tested it quietly. When he found it was indeed unlocked, he opened it and then closed it behind himself, and quietly tiptoed up the stairs in the dark. Then he ascended up the stairs to the attic door, and slipped inside, leaving the door ajar for quick exit.

Walking over to Craig's monitor and ignoring the fact Craig was probably somewhere in the dark room, most likely his bed - he sat down at the other's computer and then saw his window open. What a douche. He clicked on AIM, and then blocked himself from Craig's list. Then he went to the start menu and right clicked on the music folder, then hit delete. When prompted, he hit yes. Then he moved to click the recycle bin on the desktop, the only icon Craig had.  
Empty? "Yes," Stan whispered aloud, and then hit the yes button. Opening notepad, he typed in large letters, "HOPE YOU HAVE A LOT OF SONGS ON YOUR IPOD AND ITUNES BECAUSE YOU JUST DELETED THEM FROM THE MUSIC FOLDER."

Then he got up and looked around, finding Craig's form was indeed on the bed. He looked at the other's desk, and then spotted his wallet. With one hand, he chucked the wallet as hard as he could at Craig's figure, and then for good measure chucked Craig's keys at him too in case he missed - hey, it was dark.  
Turning to leave, he hurried towards the door.

**Craig's eyes fly open when he's hit with something hard. What the fuck? He's hit with a second thing and he shoots up in his bed, ripping out his ear buds. He vocalizes his "What the fuck?" as he sees Stan trying to escape his room. It takes him too long to register that Stan was in his room, and Stan slips out the door.**

**He's confused about why Stan was even there if all he saw was Stan leaving, but then he sees his computer screen. What the hell is on it?**

**He gets up and walks over to it, trying to figure out what it is. A message? What the…**

**WHAT THE FUCK?**

**He clicks into his files and sure enough, the entire music folder is gone. He checks the recycle bin, and that's fucking empty, too.**

**What. The. Fuck.**

**Craig is so pissed off that he can't even think straight anymore. He's completely blinded by his rage, and now he's going to **_**kill**_**Stan.**

**He rips away from his computer and tears after Stan. He's out of the house in a dead run, and he spots Stan not too far away. It didn't take Craig long to realize what the bastard had done, after all, and now he's fucking running.**

**He's on Stan not a minute later and he shoulder checks him with the full force of his run. He watches as Stan hits the pavement, and it doesn't satisfy his rage. No, not by a fucking long shot.**

**He moves step on Stan, putting his socked foot in the middle of Stan's back and keeping him pinned to the ground.**

"**What the**_** fuck**_** is your fucking problem? Deleting my fucking music? What the**_** fuck**_**? I have never in my fucking life done something that fucking terrible to someone. What the **_**actual**_**fuck is your fucking problem?"**

**He's yelling, and he doesn't care. He doesn't care who hears, or what the neighbors will think, or Hell, who even sees them together. He's fucking**_** livid**_** and he's going to kill Stan no matter what anyone fucking says.**

"**What the fuck kind of dick breaks into someone's fucking house in the middle of the fucking night and deletes their fucking music folder?"**

As Stan slipped out of Craig's room and started down the steps, he actually felt some remorse as he opened and closed the door behind him. He was speed walking only because he didn't feel like overexerting himself, but he was sure that Craig was probably going to follow. Even though he regretted it, he still thought Craig was a major douche and deserved it - after all, he wouldn't have done it if he had just been civil. If he didn't want to be civil, then Stan didn't have to be.

Walking down the street he took a moment to pause to look around him, thinking he heard something. What it really was, was the Tucker household's door opening and closing, but he didn't connect the two. And when he went face forwards on the pavement, his eyes widened as he hit the ground forcefully, feeling a sensation of panic spreading through his limbs as he suddenly feels Craig's foot on his back. He listened as he reached up with one arm to feel his face- he was pretty sure he hit his chin on the pavement, and he felt around his mouth with his tongue to check his teeth. Nothing was wrong, but the pain radiated.

With a rather unamused tone he said, "Well, I would have wiped the computer but it would have taken too long." He wouldn't have actually done this - Stan wasn't that much of a douche, even on his worst days.

**Craig sneers at the sarcastic response, his lip curling in disgust. Now he remembers why he fucking hates Stan. Because Stan is a complete asshole who only ever think about his own fucking self and never considers how other people might fucking feel. Craig might **_**act**_** like a dick, but he isn't **_**actually**_** a dick. Stan is just a dick in every way, shape and form.**

**He stoops down, unavoidably putting more weight on Stan's back. He tangles a fist in Stan's hair and pulls his head back by it, bowing his neck and forcing Stan to look at him. Well, forcing Stan to face his direction.**

**Craig's glare is cold, void of anything that might resemble mercy. He's really having troubles remembering that murder is illegal. "Why the fuck are you being such a dick?" he asks, his voice dangerously quiet.**

**He's near nose to nose with Stan, and he's having a hard time not just fucking head-butting him hard enough to knock him out. Craig's skull is hard enough; it might hurt a bit, but he'd come out conscious.**

Stan grit his teeth together, even though they already ached, as soon as Craig yanked on his hair. He feels the pressure on his back, and it felt like a massage gone horribly wrong - he was pretty sure if Craig had been Cartman, his spine would have been broken by now. His eyes focused on Craig's cold stare, and he tried to not be intimidated by the other's emotionless expression. What was he going to do? Kill him? He vaguely thought of Kyle's remark - that Craig would beat him up if he was given the chance- and he wondered if Craig was going to do it right here in the street.

When he asked why Stan was being such a dick, Stan at first didn't have an answer. Sure, he knew he did it because he was angry - but he didn't do things like this unless he was really pissed. Was he really pissed? What he felt was muddled; like he couldn't decide what the cause for this was. It should have been clear if he did something as serious as delete someone's property, but he wasn't even sure of his emotions right now. It then hit him - did he do this in desperation to kill Craig's like for him? Just because he wanted him to hate him, instead of liking him? To rekindle their hate? He stared at Craig for what seemed like a long time and then said sulky,

"I'm making you hate me again."

**Craig waits, unmoving, for Stan's response. Just keeps giving that same, hard stare.**

**Then Stan speaks, and it's sad, and Craig feels his gut clench with their meaning. He keeps his expression cold, though. No, he's not going to stop being this pissed off just because Stan is**_**sad**_**. It does, however, kill a little bit of his motivation for actual fighting.**

**He narrows his eyes more, staring at Stan for another few long, drawn out seconds, before finally speaking, tightening his grip in Stan's hair for emphasis. "Well it's fucking working," he says, voice barely a growl.**

**He thinks about it for a second, now that his brain is functioning a tiny bit more. He weighs the pros and cons of smashing Stan's stupid fucking face into the pavement and beating his ass so bad he'll be put back in the hospital.**

**Among the cons, he remembers Wendy somewhere in there, and he realizes that he probably doesn't want to piss her off. She's a scary bitch when she wants to be, and something tells Craig that breaking her boyfriend isn't something she smiles at.**

**He groans and pulls himself away from Stan, all in one movement. He flops backward onto his back, defeated by his own logic against his rage. He closes his eyes and just feels the cold, hard street against his back. He's not wearing his hoodie or his shoes or anything, so it's actually pretty chilly.**

"**I'm not going to kill you though, so just fucking go home," he says, his voice still hard and angry, despite his resolve not to fight.**

With a shaky inhale as Craig's fingers pulled at his hair, he tried to not say anything at all even though he was flinching at the pain. His eyes closed and he waited for Craig to either smash his head against the pavement, or to kick him - something other than what Craig actually ends up doing. As soon as the other let go, Stan moved his hands to feel the back of his head - the pain was numbing in a way. Glancing over at Craig, who now was on his back, he heard the other tell him to go home because he wasn't going to kill him. He frowned, not because he was disappointed - who would be disappointed when someone said they weren't going to kill them - but he was more so disappointed because Craig didn't react like he thought he would. He sounded angry, but it wasn't matching what he was doing.

Slowly pulling himself up off of the pavement, he looked down at his jacket - on the white parts, there were now dark marks from the street blacktop. He then looked at Craig, and chose to sat down on the pavement instead of leave. Cross-legged, he stared at Craig, wondering if the other could tell he wasn't walking away.

**Craig just lies there with his eyes closed, silently fuming and trying to let the ground and the breeze cool him off. Why the fuck does Stan have to be such a fucking bastard all the time? Craig doesn't even have to do anything for Stan to get pissed and fly off the fucking handle.**

**So, what? Craig ignores him and Stan deletes his whole fucking music folder? Does Stan even know how long it took Craig to collect all that fucking music. That masterpiece has been building up since fucking middle school…**

**He sighs and opens his eyes to look up at the sky. It's the middle of the night, and they're in the mountains, so Craig can see everything. There's only a half moon, and the entire expanse of sky around it is glittered with stars. Craig isn't really one for "nature" or whatever, but it actually looks kind of cool.**

**He focuses on it, taking in the scene and trying to let it calm him down. He doesn't think he'll calm down, though. His **_**entire**_** music collection is gone now. And he **_**didn't **_**kill someone over it. Still he tries his best to get over it. He can just… rebuild it, right? Maybe.**

**He eventually gains back enough of his coherent thought to notice Stan sitting next to him. Has he been sitting there this whole time?**

"**Why the fuck are you still here?" he asks, trying to pick back up his angry voice, even though he's managed to calm himself down for the most part. It doesn't really work, though, and it ends up coming out just kind of… tired. Because Craig is exhausted. He's sick of all this relationship drama, and he's sick of Stan pissing him off. He just wants things to go back to a time when everything wasn't so fucking hard.**

Stan watched Craig for a few minutes as he didn't respond. Actually, he wasn't really watching Craig as much as he was thinking about him, because he was feeling incredibly guilty about deleting his music. It was one of those things that was spur of the moment, like, oh, this is a great idea to get back at this guy - but then it left him feeling vindictive and kind of empty. He didn't do things like this often, and usually they pertained to his love life, since he was a very jealous person.

Glancing upwards at the sky, not realizing Craig might be doing the same thing, he zoned out for a minute before he was brought back to reality by a tired sounding Craig. Looking down with a jump, like he had just been discovered - albeit in plain sight - he stared at the other for a whole minute.

"…um…"

It was probably the lamest beginning of an explanation, to look confused and just stare at the other. But eventually he finally struggled to say, even though he was still angry at Craig; "I'm sorry… I could ask Kyle to look at your computer and see if he can get the folder back. Or I can pay for the music you had in there. I don't know."

He looked down at his hands in his lap, his face ridden with guilt.

"I'm really sorry."

**Craig stares at Stan as he waits for an explanation. Why couldn't Stan just leave him in the fucking street and go home? He's the one that Started this fucking fight; the least he can do is leave Craig to wallow in it on his own.**

**When Stan apologizes Craig just rolls his eyes and turns to look back up at the sky instead.**

"**Fuck off; you don't just delete someone's entire music collection and then say you're sorry. It doesn't fucking work like that, you bastard."**

**Now that he's been laying on the ground for an extended period of time, he's getting cold. He wants his blankets, but he refuses to get up. He's just going to lay in the street until someone fucking hits him.**

**Okay, probably not, he's not suicidal, but he doesn't want to get up, even for blankets.**

"I can't change what I did, asshole," Stan retorted, even though it was a justified statement that Craig made. He really couldn't just apologize for deleting Craig's property; it didn't work that way. With a prominent frown, he stared down at the blacktop with his eyes half-closed, his mouth in a straight line as he tried to think what else to say. Really, he had achieved what he was set out to do - he pissed Craig off, and now they were pretty much at square one. But why did he feel compelled to pick at the issue?

Sighing, he finally said, "It's cold."

**Craig just scoffs. Does Stan really think that was justified in any way? "Why did you even fucking do that? Seriously, that was fucking worse than fucking blue-balling me, was." He says it dismissively, like all he really wants to do is drop the subject. And he does want to drop it, because if he gets pissed off about it again, he might not be able to stop himself from killing Stan this time.**

**He lets out a frustrated breath at Stan's next comment. "Of course it's fucking cold; you're sitting in the middle of the street at one in the fucking morning. If you don't like it, then go the fuck home."**

Staring a Craig, he really didn't have a proper response formed - not even a sarcastic one. He probably was the only person who knew how to grate on Craig's nerves, and he took every chance to - but right now it seemed like the nicer option to just let it drop.

Glancing down at the blacktop, he put an idle hand on it and felt the chill. Really, his flannel pants were protecting him from the blunt force of it, but only because they were thick. Looking over at Craig, he then realized the other was in a flimsy shirt and laying back down on the pavement. Well, that would be cold. Without thinking about how Craig probably didn't want anything of Stan's near him at this precise moment, he slid out of his jacket and then leaned over to drape it over Craig's chest, covering the other with a make shift blanket.

Then he started to get up. Might as well leave, it wasn't like Craig was going to do anything but mope even if he offered help to solve the problem he caused.

**Craig is a bit shocked when Stan lays his jacket over him. What the fuck kind of bipolarism does Stan have that he does something like delete Craig's whole library of music and then turns around and gives him his… He looks down and notices that it's Stan's sport jacket. Gives him his fucking letterman?**

"**I'm not your fucking girlfriend, I don't need your jacket," he says. Though he says it, he doesn't make any moves to take it off. He finds that it's actually really warm and he hates himself for wanting it to stay there on his chest. He hates himself even more for still not pushing it off when he realizes that it's only this warm because of Stan's body heat.**

**Ugh, just fuck this night.**

"Whatever," Stan responds apathetically, looking down at Craig before he looked out towards his house. It was a ways off, but he could probably jog there quick. Now with the warm jacket gone, he was feeling a bit chilled and it was odd to not have it. Reaching up to his head, he realized he had dropped his hat somewhere - but where? He glanced around, and then spot it a little ways away. When he fell, it must have flown off. He walked over and picked it up, and shoved it on his head.

"Night." He started to walk off in the direction of his house.

**Craig just lays there, not willing to argue it any further. Besides, by not saying anything, it means he gets to stay laying on the ground longer because he's no longer going to freeze. He doesn't say good night either, because he's still incredibly pissed off, but he watches Stan start to walk away. He stops watching after a few seconds, though, and just stares back up at the sky. Maybe he'll just lay out here for an hour or something, let the out-doors clear his head. Because really, after that he can't decide if he wants to rip Stan's head off for being such a dick, or - or what? What would he do in return for Stan giving him his goddamn letterman? The possibilities flash in his mind, and he quickly decides that he doesn't want to think about that. He sighs again and tries to make his mind as blank as possible. Fuck, he really needs to get his shit sorted out. Yeah, he'll go back home in an hour, maybe.**

Stan was about ten feet away before he began feeling incredibly guilty again. It occurred to him that they were in the middle of the street, and Craig was lying there, with nothing but a jacket that had white on it to show himself lying there. How dangerous was that? He glanced over his shoulder, his hands in his pants pockets as he glared in Craig's general direction. Goddamnit, he thought, I can't leave him lying in the middle of the street like a suicidal idiot.

He started walking back and when he reached Craig, he stood at the top of the other's head and then looked down at him.

"Get up. You're not lying in the middle of the street so someone can hit you going ten miles per hour."

"**Fuck you, what do you care?" he says, not moving. He doesn't actually want to get hit; he'd get up if a car was coming, but right now all he wants to do is lay there and sulk in his own misery. He doesn't even look at Stan, standing over his head. He doesn't want to see Stan, not after all the shit that's happened – is happening – and especially not after Stan just wiped his music collection.**

"I care. Get the fuck up." He insisted, and then sighed as he looked towards the houses. How many people had noticed them out in the street, obstructing traffic? Not that anyone was driving around right now, but they probably would be in five hours.

"Get up or I'm going to make you get up."

**Craig continues to just lay there, staying silent for a few seconds. He's sick of hearing Stan say he cares. He's sick of hearing Stan say anything nice; he just wants Stan to go back to ignoring him completely. Can't Stan just… go the fuck away like he asked?**

"**Fucking make me get up then, because I want to lay here so that's what I'm going to do."**

After Craig's refusal, Stan knelt down on his knee and then pulled Craig up by putting his hands under the other's shoulders. He pushed him forcefully forwards so he could wrap his arms around the other's chest underneath the letterman, and then used his strength to pull him to his feet - which really, considering how strong Stan was when he wanted to apply force, it was pretty easy even if he was shorter than Craig.

**Craig wasn't expecting Stan to actually pick him up, so when Stan does he doesn't think enough to fight back. The letterman falls off of him, and he's instantly cold again. As soon as he's standing, he rips himself away from Stan's arms and turns to glare at him. "What the fuck, I wanted to lay there," is all he says. He's actually more pissed that he's cold again than that he's standing, because he refuses to pick the jacket back up and put it on. Just no. Fuck no. But now that he's standing he has the ability to go home and sulk in his bed instead.**

Stumbling back when Craig ripped himself from his arms, Stan stood back a bit as the other declared his anger for Stan's actions. Well, he couldn't deny he felt better knowing that Craig was off the ground and out of harm's way - even if he was the reason the other was lying there in the first place. Leaning down, he picked up the letterman off the ground, and felt the lining of the jacket with his fingers as he thought about putting it on. Glancing up at Craig, he stepped forwards and swung the jacket around him so it was draped over the other's shoulders. The problem however was that his hand was really close to the other's face as he did so, and for a brief moment he touched Craig's neck gently with his finger tips. His eyes narrowed as he did so, and he slowly pulled away.

He hesitated for a moment, and then reached around Craig and gave him a hug, pressing his head against the other's chest silently.

**Craig watches Stan pick the letterman back up, but freezes when Stan puts it around him. What the fuck does Stan thing he's doing..?**

**He goes completely rigid when Stan hugs him. His first instinct was to wrap his arms around Stan, and that actually scares him a little. He shouldn't want to be hugging Stan. No. No no no. This isn't okay.**

"**Um… what are you doing?" he manages to ask. It's incredibly unsure, and he's ashamed of the way his voice sounds like it might crack. He doesn't know how much longer he can handle all of this. He doesn't know how much longer he can do this without breaking; there's just too many unwanted feelings in Craig's life, and he doesn't know how to get rid of them.**

Not moving, Stan kept his face pressed against Craig's chest, and just stood there without replying for a few minutes. With a frown on his face, he finally did respond with a very straightforward answer;

"I'm hugging you, you bastard."

It was soft however, as if he were trying to comfort Craig. If one could deliver the phrase 'you bastard' in an endearing way, this was it.

"I'm sorry."

**Against Craig's better judgment, he slowly raises his arms and wraps them around Stan's back. Somehow the letterman doesn't fall off his shoulders with the movement, and he's not sure he likes it being there anymore. He might rather be cold than have that be what's making him warm.**

**He doesn't respond to Stan's apology right away, just stands there with his arms around him and hating himself more and more with each second for even doing it. He shouldn't be standing in the middle of the street, in the middle of the night, holding Stan. That's not how things work.**

**But there he is, doing just that. "I still hate you," he says, quiet. He can feel Stan's arms around his waist, and it's making him hurt on the inside. "You're such a dick."**

He felt Craig's arms moving to return the hug, and he pressed the side of his face closer to Craig, his head underneath the arch of Craig's neck. It was actually comforting that the other was returning the hug instead of shoving him on the ground or pushing him away at all. Closing his eyes, he thought of what Wendy might say if she was watching him in the street - good thing her house was near his and nowhere near Craig's.

"You're a shithead," Stan murmured, and then added, "And I hate you but I want you to be happy whether you like it or not."

**Craig frowns when he feels Stan press more into him. Fucking why? Why is Stan doing this to him? He wonders if Stan even realizes how much pain he's putting Craig though.**

**He considers Stan's statement for a few moments, trying to think of how to respond properly. "…if you want me to be happy, you need to stop doing this," he starts, trying to figure out his wording in his head. "I can't take it anymore. I can't make Kenny happy this way; I'm too wrecked up. It's really depressing me…" he stops, wondering why he's being so open.**

**Why should he even tell Stan anything personal? He just basically told Stan that he likes him, and Stan's messing him up. He's messed up because of all this fucking confusion in his chest.**

"**It hurts."**

"But…" Stan said as he clung to Craig, not moving. Why should he move? Craig was warm, and he vaguely remembered hugging him in the locker rooms by the familiar scent of guinea pig on his shirt. It should have reminded him of bad memories, like he told Wendy - that he had nightmares every night about that place - but it didn't. And truthfully, they hadn't been nightmares at all. He felt his heart in the bottom of his throat, finding it hard to concentrate as he tried to respond to Craig in a voice that wasn't pained, but it wasn't working.

"But I don't want to stop."

**Craig's hands clench involuntarily at Stan's words, trying to cope with what they mean. He absently notices that he's probably squeezing Stan now, but he doesn't care. Why the fuck doesn't Stan want to stop? Ugh, why is he making this so much harder than it needs to be?**

"**You don't want to stop," he repeats, still trying to absorb it.**

**He sighs, admitting to himself that he doesn't really want to stop either. But he needs to stop. He has to. Things will only get worse if they keep seeing each other. Keep holding onto each other. Keep **_**liking **_**each other.**

"**But we need to. We aren't just hurting ourselves here; we're hurting Kenny and Wendy, too."**

"Just shut up." Stan mumbled, feeling Craig's hands clench - what was he doing? Sending him mixed signals? He felt horrible already as he had already thought of Wendy, and now adding Kenny to the mixture was making his heart plummet. It possibly felt worse than being thrown on the ground and almost having his teeth knocked out. He finally pulled his head away from the other's chest, but kept his arms around him and stared up at Craig, locking into his gaze.

"Tell me to stop and mean it."

**Their eyes lock intently, and Craig's stomach drops even more. With a look like that on Stan's face, all Craig wants to do is lean down and kiss him. It just feels right, in the moment.**

**His head drops down a bit on impulse, but he catches himself before he can make contact. No, he can't do this. It's not right, no matter how it feels right now. He keeps his head bowed, frozen in his almost-mistake, eyes still locked with Stan's.**

**He remembers that Stan had spoken, and that he hasn't responded. It's hard to think quite clearly, though, with their mouths still so close together.**

"**I did mean it," he says, his breathing just the tiniest bit shaky. He needs to get out of there. This is bad. Very bad. Very, very fucking bad.**

Even though he was thinking of how angry Wendy would be, Stan felt himself yearning to move closer to Craig. When the other moved in to kiss him, he felt his heart racing again; but then he became slightly confused when Craig stopped. What? Why would he move closer? It bothered him that they were sending mixed signals to one another, and he tried to think of Wendy and Kenny - he really couldn't handle doing that to them. Again. If Craig was so angry, why was he so near Stan?

When he heard his response, and felt Craig's breath pass over his lips, he held his breath as he tried to convince himself to not react. Wendy. Think of Wendy. Kyle. Anyone.

But it ultimately fails, because he erases the distance between their mouths by pressing his lips against Craig's, his eyes closed as he moved his right hand up Craig's back.

**When Stan kisses him, his eyes instantly fall shut. He wants to pull away; dear God he wants to pull away. He wants to hit Stan. He wants to go home. He wants to forget that his blood is racing in his veins. He doesn't want to like that Stan is kissing him.**

…**but he does. He likes it a lot.**

**He screams in his head that he needs to stop, but instead he leans into it. One of his hands moves from Stan's back and up Stan's neck. He holds it there, tilting their heads at the perfect angle. For a second – just a second – he forgets why this is so wrong.**

His fingers trailed down Craig's back, towards his waistline as he felt the other lean in. This was probably the worst thing he had done to Wendy by far- at least with Kyle, he was drunk. Well, most of the time. He couldn't help it - this was completely Craig's fault. If only he had said they could hang out, and then they could have fought, which would have led to…

This?

His mind wasn't clearly thinking about anything, though; even as he tried to focus on Wendy and Kenny, he was forgetting what he was trying to stop. When the kiss ended and he needed air to breath, his voice was shaky as he said, "Can this be the solution?"

**Craig takes a few seconds to open his eyes when the kiss breaks, focusing on keeping his breathing steady. When Stan speaks, it brings Craig back to the situation, what's happening. His fingers stop playing with the ends of Stan's hair, and his eyebrows furrow.**

"**What do you mean; how does this fix anything?" he asks, his voice still a little dazed. The realization is starting to hit him, though, that he was just kissing Stan. He starts to panic a little in his head. Oh God, he promised Kenny it wouldn't happen again. He fucking **_**promised**_**.**

**Craig is officially the shittiest boyfriend in all of existence.**

"Like…" Stan began to explain, but he felt his face grow warm from the thought. Why would he even propose something like that? Wendy hadn't okay'd their break, and Craig was with Kenny. This was all wrong. He knew it was wrong. Usually he knew when to do the right thing, but for some reason he wasn't doing anything right at all right now - just because his heart was involved and his brain was fighting a losing battle with it.

"Like..secret.." His words were fragmented, and he slowly removed his hand from Craig's lower back where he had been toying with the hem of the other's shirt. Wendy, Wendy was so understanding and he was just walking all over her.

Even though he was backing away, his hands moving downwards to his sides as he looked down at Craig's chest, averting his eyes.

"Secret..thing."

**Craig can feel his stomach drop further and further with each second that passes. Is Stan suggesting what he **_**thinks**_** Stan is suggesting?**

**He lets his arms slowly retreat back to his sides as Stan back away, keeping his eyes on Stan's face even though Stan isn't looking at him. His heart is racing, and his brain is struggling to keep up with his own thoughts.**

"**Dude… n… no. No, we can't. I can't. No, I promised Kenny. I promised Kenny…" he trails off. Is that the only reason he can't do it? Because he promised Kenny? Would he do it if Kenny hadn't made him promise?**

"**I can't," he says again, more to himself than really to Stan. Like he's trying to convince himself that it's a bad idea. It **_**is**_** a bad idea.**

"Yeah..it's not a good idea." Stan agreed quietly, trying not to look at Craig. He looked depressed, mainly because he was trying to think of what Wendy would say if she found out about how he made out in his pajamas in the middle of the street with Craig Tucker.

"..sorry…" He apologized, even though he wasn't sure if it was for erasing Craig's music or if it was for making him do something that would hurt Kenny. Really, he couldn't stand hurting Kenny - Kenny was so down all the time, and he was always trying to protect him, but it was harder when Stan was trying to protect Kenny from Stan.

"I'm…I'm just going to go home."

**Craig listens as Stan talks, feeling terrible because of how depressed he sounds. Why do they do this to each other? They're supposed to hate each other, not like each other so much that it actually hurts.  
When Stan turns to try and go, Craig's impulses get the best of him before he can think about it, and he catches him back up in another hug. He wraps his arms around Stan's shoulders, making sure not to hold onto him quite as tightly as he feels like doing. No, that might imply something that he doesn't want Stan to know.**

**Fuck it, Stan already knows, but he doesn't need to give Stan the wrong idea. He just holds him there, their chests pressing together, using the fact that his head is beside Stan's as an excuse to not look at him. Why is he hugging Stan anyway? He doesn't need to comfort Stan.**

"**Um, I don't know what that was," he says, regarding the hug. He starts to try and pull away. "You're right, you should go home."**

Stan had only just turned before Craig caught him off guard in a hug, and he felt somewhat like crying as the other held him close. Why did he say no and then hug him? What was his issue? Even when he liked Craig, he was the biggest dick on the face of the planet for doing things like this. Stan couldn't think of a reason to not return the hug, so he hesitantly lifted his arms up, just barely pressing his hands against Craig's back. He frowned however, even if Craig couldn't see it, and when the other pulled away his expression went back to expressing straight-faced sadness.

"Can't we just…try it for a month and see what happens." He felt incredibly guilty, but he finally expressed why he didn't want to just ignore the issue. "I hate thinking of what ifs, and I don't want you to be my biggest one."

**Craig feels his chest drop even more, and an awkward racing tingly feeling fills the void. He doesn't want Craig to be his biggest what-if? This is all getting a lot deeper than Craig ever intended. Hell, Craig didn't intend for it to get deep at all. But here it is: they can't even stay the fuck away from each other.**

"**Stan, I…" There it is again, Stan's first name. Craig hopes this doesn't become a habit. "I can't. I promised Kenny I wouldn't do anything with you, and I already just… kissed you. No, I can't do it for a whole month; I'd probably kill myself over the guilt. I can't do this…"**

**At this point, Craig is questioning if he can even handle Kenny anymore. He's so stressed out over this relationship stuff, he might need to take a vacation; hide in a hole for a while. Craig isn't good with handling people's emotions, and he's been doing it a lot the past week or so.**

**Still, he feels terrible. A part of him really wants to accept Stan's offer, but he just… can't. He can't do that to Kenny. Not again.**

"It's…" Stan began, drifting off for a moment as he looked back at Craig for a split second before looking away at the pavement. He slowly pulled away from Craig, and then turned again, this time he had to look over his shoulder at Craig to speak to him.

"It's okay, it probably wouldn't have worked out anyways."

Then he started walking away. He couldn't think of a reason to go, but then again, Craig really wasn't giving him a reason to stay either. Maybe he would just walk around the block a few times before he went to bed. Now he really wasn't sure what he was going to tell Wendy, or if he was. Maybe it would just go away now that Craig had made up his mind. No more ignoring it, but at the same time, no hope either. It was pretty much crushed, just like Stan felt right this instant as he walked away.

**Craig wants to catch Stan again, but he doesn't. He tries to tell himself it's for the best to let it end here. He needs to just let Stan walk away this time. Maybe if they're both just crushed, they won't have anything good to think about each other. Because that's what Craig feels, he realizes; crushed. Even if he was just the one doing the crushing, smashing Stan's offer.**

"**Probably," he says in response to Stan's statement. He doesn't know if Stan will hear it or not, but the streets echo sometimes. He doesn't even know if he **_**wants**_** Stan to hear it, because it might have been wrong to say anything at all, but fuck. Craig just feels like he's dead. He doesn't know what he wants anymore.**

**He can feel the heavy material of Stan's letterman weighing down on his shoulders, and it makes his chest hurt again. Why did Stan have to give that fucking thing to him? He continues to stand there, frustrated with his own confusion and desires. He can't bring his legs to move. He's just… ugh. He'll go home when he feels like sleeping. Right now he's just going to stand there like an idiot, because that's how he feels.**

Stan turned to look over his shoulder as he walked, but he decided it was probably for the best if he didn't, so he looked straight ahead. His eyes were half-closed as he watched the pavement change to sidewalk, without looking up as he kept his head bowed. He really did hear Craig, but he didn't want to say anything else, because he felt like it was already too complicated. Now he was feeling guilty, like he was ashamed for liking more than one person, even if he couldn't control it at all.

He disappeared around the block after a few minutes, intending to walk all the way home and sit on the porch awhile after getting his cigarettes from his truck. He needed a smoke.


	11. 05 14 2012

05.14.2012 - 05.15.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh:** -Girlfriend wants jacket back. She's coming to your house soon.

**Craig Tucker:** -What? What the fuck, why is she coming to my house?

**Stan Marsh:** -she wants my letterman back.

**Craig Tucker:** -She can have it; you're the one that gave it away.

**Stan Marsh:** -i didn't give it away I forgot about it

**Craig Tucker:** -Right, well you can tell her I'm leaving it at the front door. I don't need more fucking people in my house uninvited.

**Stan Marsh:** -that's probably best.

**Craig Tucker:** -Well due to the fact that someone has a tendency to just come the fuck in whenever they damn please, the door will be locked, so tell her not to bother knocking. Just pick it up and leave.

**Stan Marsh:** -I got your first message. I get the point.

**Craig Tucker:** -So are you done talking yet? I'm busy.

**Stan Marsh:** -uh, been done. you keep messaging me. i'm just telling you she's going to stop by sometime.

**Stan Marsh:** -I told her about last night.

**Stan Marsh:** -but I didn't tell her what I asked, so please just don't talk about it.

**Craig Tucker:** -I just told you that I'm leaving the damn jacket on the porch; there will be no conversation involved. Don't you listen? You just told me you fucking understood.

**Stan Marsh:** -ok..

**Stan Marsh:** -craig, kyle's going to help you get your music folder back.

**Stan Marsh:** -could you set up a time for him to go over to your house.

**Craig Tucker:** -Why are you even helping, fuck you, you're the one that deleted it all.

**Stan Marsh:** -just set up a time with him, craig, I don't want to really talk with you.

**Stan Marsh:** -and kenny knows, I'm sorry.

**Stan Marsh:** -I tried telling him I started it but he's still pissed.

**Craig Tucker:** -Why the fuck are you insistent on ruining my life? Can't I tell my own goddamn boyfriend about my own life before you have to fucking butt in?

**Stan Marsh:** -he's my goddamn best friend, I had to tell him.

**Craig Tucker:** -Yeah, and he's my boyfriend, I should have had the opportunity to tell him fucking first. Fuck you, seriously.

**Stan Marsh:** -bros before hoes, asshole.

**Craig Tucker:** -What the fuck is that even supposed to mean? Fuck you; if Kenny breaks up with me because he thinks I'm hiding things from him, I'm going to fucking kill you.

**Stan Marsh:** -yeah. you're totally great at killing people. knock them to the ground then make out with them to death

**Craig Tucker:** -We didn't make out and you're the one that kissed me so fuck you.

**Stan Marsh:** -yeah. I know. i told him I initiated it. so fuck you.

**Stan Marsh:** -i was being sarcastic, you asshole. like you'd ever kill me

**Craig Tucker:** -The only reason I didn't actually kill you was because I didn't want to get even further on Wendy's fucking bad side. You fucking DELETED all my fucking music. I SHOULD have killed you.

**Stan Marsh:** -just try to kill me tucker. if you even come near me I'll kick the shit out of you.

**Craig Tucker:** -Yeah because you've done so well at that in the past. The best move you could come up with was fucking biting me like a woman. You'd never beat me.

**Stan Marsh:** -that's because I didn't know if there were cameras. you'd be on the floor if you tried to kill me tucker, trust me on that.

**Craig Tucker:** -Well I don't care enough to find out; I'm not going fucking anywhere near you. In fact, I'm done texting you, too. Fuck off.

**Stan Marsh:** -you know you'd lose. guess I win.

**Stan Marsh:** -wuss.

**Stan Marsh:** -btw, apparently biting was effective, so you'd go down first in a fight.

**Stan Marsh:** -the only reason you stopped texting was because you know I'd make you my bitch.

**Stan Marsh:** -like I did three times in the locker room.

**Stan Marsh:** -come on asshole. you threaten me, I'm going to bother the fucking hell out of you.

**Stan Marsh:** -by the way, I told Kenny you enjoy biting.

**Stan Marsh:** -guess I should have waited for him to figure that out too huh.

**Stan Marsh:** -oops.

**Craig Tucker:** -Fucking Christ, if you don't fucking stop I'm going to throw myself off a fucking building. Or my window, it's a lot closer.

**Stan Marsh:** -…what?

**Craig Tucker:** -Don't ask what, fucking moron, read the text again.

**Stan Marsh:** -are you going to commit suicide? wtf?

**Craig Tucker:** -Fuck you, stop fucking texting me.

**Stan Marsh:** -no seriously

**Craig Tucker:** -What's not serious? I'm telling you to fucking stop.

**Stan Marsh:** -am I making you suicidal?

**Craig Tucker:** -No, fuck you, just fucking stop.

**Stan Marsh:** -you're like totally sure you're not suicidal right

**Craig Tucker:** -Maybe not if you don't fucking stop. What do I have to do to get you to leave me the fuck alone?

**Stan Marsh:** -dude you're not serious about that are you?

**Craig Tucker:** -Fuck. Off.

**Stan Marsh:** -are you okay?

* * *

Around 11, Stan exited his house with his phone in the pocket of his hoodie. He of course didn't have his letterman jacket he usually wore, so he had grabbed the first available cover. Wearing jeans and boots - he didn't bother with his hat, and he didn't want to take his car because he was afraid it'd wake up his parents.

Rounding the corner to Craig's house, he wondered if he had been serious. He was pretty sure he was serious, after all, he had told him some things that made Stan question whether he was going to off himself before, and lying in the street the previous night wasn't exactly strengthening Craig's case for not being suicidal. As soon as he reached the house, he tried the door and found it was indeed locked. Damnit.

Looking around, he realized he could easily step up on the water spout in front of the house and climb in through the window. He did so and tried the window - luckily it was open. He slowly eased himself into the house, and then shut the window behind him and hurried up the steps as quietly as he could. Almost running up the steps to the attic, he opened the door and then said immediately,

"It's not worth it, don't you dare fucking kill yourself you asshole!"

**Craig looks up from his spot on his bed, seeing Stan at his door way. He furrow his brows and set his phone down on the mattress next to him. He takes out his ear buds and sits up.**

"**How the fuck did you get in my house; the fucking door is locked," he says. How the hell did Stan even get in? Why the hell is he there?**

"I climbed through the window, and I know it's technically breaking and entering and that's illegal but if you're going to kill yourself, fuck the guidelines. Don't do it."

Stan said in one breath, and breathed in, and then out again heavily. With one glance around the room, he wondered what Craig had intended to do it with - was he actually going to jump out the window? He seemed to be settled down on his mattress. …maybe Kyle had been right.

**Craig raises an eyebrow at that. "You came all the way over here and broke into my house just to tell me 'don't do it?'" he asks, actually kind of amused by it. He tries to hold in his chuckle, but it starts to leak out. He gives in and lets out a few seconds of laughter before looking back up at Stan.**

"**Bro. Seriously? I'm the **_**last**_** person that would ever commit suicide. If you don't even know that, then you don't know me at**_**all**_**. I mean yeah, I'm going through a lot of shit right now, and you make me want to stick my head through a wall, but come on. Me? Suicide?"**

**He stops speaking for a second, realizing that he'd been talking a lot. Maybe he's finally snapped. He just had a humorous moment with Stan Marsh, what the fuck. Well, he thought it was funny at least, but he doesn't know about Stan.**

**He focuses on Stan's face to gauge how he's taking it. If Stan had actually been worried, he'd probably be pissed that Craig laughed, but if not, then… if not then why is Stan here? So Craig is probably about to get slapped, but he doesn't even care. That little bit of laugher made him mellow out, so now he's in a good mood. A good joke always does that for Craig.**

"…what."

Stan stared at Craig, and then finally moved inside the door and shut it behind him. He didn't want Craig's parents inquiring why a random student walked in the house and ran into Craig's room - though he couldn't remember the last time he saw the Tucker parents. Probably some town event or something. Well, either way this wasn't going to be the first time they saw him in months if he could help it.

When Craig started laughing, Stan's confusion increased. What was wrong with him? Was he mental? He actually considered leaving, but he couldn't do that, just in case Craig was just playing off his suicidal tendencies as a joke.

"Well…okay." He said after a moment, refraining from yelling at the other for not taking suicidal threats seriously. "You're still acting weird. Are you okay?" He stared at Craig blankly. "Do you like…have someone to talk to about all this shit?"

**Craig waves a hand dismissively before stretching his arms in the air. Really, he'd been laying in that same spot too long. He hears his back pop before he lowers his arms again. "Yeah, bro, I'm fine," he says. It's almost flat, but it still holds a bit of his humor.**

**He looks back to Stan to see that he's not actually angry anymore. Or maybe he never was. "Were you that worried?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. Maybe Stan actually cared about other people after all.  
Wait, nope. Stan deleted his music; he doesn't care about anyone. But still, he's here right now, so he must at least care about Craig's life, if not his happiness.**

"Well…yeah." Stan said, still staring Craig down. Why wasn't he more angry that Stan just broke in his house? Why did he laugh? Why did he send messages threatening suicide after Stan essentially bullied him? He must have known this would be an outcome, if not calling the cops - though Stan really didn't want anyone else to get caught up in this. No, he's prefer to straighten it out himself.

He moved towards Craig's bed, and then sat down on the edge near to Craig. His back was to the other, but he was turned in a way he could see Craig's face. At first, he looked uneasy as if he were going to die if he planted his ass anywhere in Craig's room, but then he got over it fairly quick.

"Look, I know I was giving you a hard time..I really did tell Kenny all that, but I left out a lot that you did so it made me look bad. And he's really pissed at me, and he told Kyle that he is, and then he told me you make him really happy…So I think you've got a better chance at saving your friendship with him than I do." He looked at his hands, and he then idly commented, "He told me that like five hours ago. And I guess when you said you were going to kill yourself I kind of freaked out because…I don't hate you that much. So…uh… just don't die? Please."

He knew adding please to a comment like that probably had no significance, but he did it anyways. With a glance towards Craig, he leaned over and wrapped his arms around Craig, though he didn't move very close - he gave the other breathing room. It was more a friendly, 'please don't leave me' hug.

**Craig watches as Stan approaches the bed, wondering what he's going to do. When Stan makes his little speech, Craig doesn't speak. There's no way that's the truth, but Craig doesn't want to argue it right now. He's feeling good, and nothing matters right now, so whatever. Craig can deal with his anger later.**

**When Stan leans over to hug him Craig doesn't even think about it before he wraps his arms around Stan in return. He holds it in a firm hug, like one he might give Clyde, and he's weirded out by its normalcy for a second, but he decides to let it go because he'd actually worried Stan.**

"**I'm not going to die, Stan," he says matter-of-factly. He's too chill right now to care for sounding one way or another. He'll just hug Stan until Stan decides he done.**

"You don't even know.." Stan commented after a moment, his voice slightly quivering as he tightened his grip on Craig. "You don't even know dude..what I've been through with Kenny, I don't want to have to worry about someone else, okay…"

He wasn't really paying attention to what he was saying - for some reason, in this moment, he trusted Craig a lot, and maybe momentarily forgot Craig wasn't in on the secret.

"Like when he told me he dies a lot and comes back, I'm like bullshit..that doesn't happen. And so I've been going through those fucking first aid classes and I can't handle it, every time he gets upset, I just…we need to stop so he doesn't hurt himself or something. Because he really likes you. But please don't do something stupid, I can't handle it anymore..I can't handle death right now."

**Craig lets Stan cling tighter, and even pulls him in a bit more. Okay, it's starting to get a little freaky how natural this feels right now. When Stan starts to talk though, Craig understands why he's being so compliant. Stan sounds like he might cry, and Craig never knows what to do when people cry, so he just hugs them.**

**He stays silent a moment, not really knowing what to say. Is Stan going to break down? He thinks about Stan's words though. So Kenny really does die all the time? When Kenny had told him that, he didn't really know what to think. He believed Kenny, but he didn't talk about it much beyond that.**

"**You've… seen him die?" he asks, if not a bit hesitantly. He's never actually seen it for himself. He decides that was probably the wrong thing to say, because it'll only make Stan sadder, so he changes his mind. "I mean I'm not going to die, don't worry about it," he says.**

**One of his hands absently moves up to run through Stan's hair. He doesn't notice, because it's just a habit he has with people he's trying to console. He never knows what to say, so he does things like hold and pet instead. Though, he never thought he'd be in this situation with Stan Marsh of all people.**

"No, god no. He says I have," Stan commented idly, though his voice was still shaking. Obviously, he hadn't been able to tell Wendy or Kyle, and this was really getting to him. Every time he had first aid the instructor reinforced the potential of losing who you were trying to save, and it made him all the more freaked out every Tuesday afternoon.

He felt Craig's hand run through his hair, and it sent shivers down his spine; in a good way. It was at the same time really comforting, even though he wasn't used to it at all. He pulled away after a moment though, and turned his back to Craig so the other couldn't see him tearing up.

"Goddamn Kenny." He almost wanted to ask Craig if he could just lay on his bed and stare at the ceiling, but he felt like this situation was already too awkward. What were they even? Friends? Enemies? Frenemies? Possibly frenemy, but Stan hadn't really thought of that term - Garrison had used it before.

"Look, I think..it's probably better I just go," He said as he reached up to wipe his right eye with his sleeve, trying to look casual about it.

**Craig lets his arms fall when Stan pulls away, not fighting to keep him there. No, why would he do that? He nods though, even if Stan can't see him past wiping his eye. He thinks a second, biting the inside of his cheek as he tries to decide.**

"**Well, um. If you want to like… stick around, you can," he says. He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, not really sure how he's supposed to make Stan stop crying. Why does everyone cry to**_**him**_** lately? "I mean, you just kind of seem upset and I don't know." He leaves it at that, not wanting to sound like he wants Stan to stay or anything; it's just an offer.**

**In reality, in the back of his head, he's thinking that if Stan leaves, he's probably going to go drown himself in some kind of alcohol, and well, he'd rather have Stan in his room than in a gutter.**

At the invitation, Stan seriously considered it. On one hand, he felt comfortable with Craig and he was feeling too lazy to wander home. That, and he really couldn't remember where the last hiding spot his mother had was for the alcohol he wanted to consume. So he decided to move backwards, and laid down on the bed next to where Craig was sitting, his hands folded over his middle as he stared at the ceiling with slightly misty eyes.

"Sorry." It was a half-assed apology for crying on Craig, and he had done far worse to Kyle and never apologized for it. Somehow he felt like Craig was the wrong person to sob on - he didn't feel like Craig really knew what to do with emotions like that.

"So you're totally positive you're not going to go kick the bucket, right."

**Craig watches as Stan lays back on his bed, and doesn't say anything to his apology. What was he apologizing for, anyway? Well, Stan has a lot to apologize for, but nothing in this exact moment.**

**He just sighs and flops back down into his original spot, where he'd been laying when Stan bursting into his room, and stares up at the ceiling as well.**

"**Yeah, I'm sure, bro," he says. He catches himself saying bro, and he's not sure if it's a bad thing or not. Stan isn't his bro, is he? Well, even if not, they're acting bro-ish at the moment, so what the fuck ever.**

**He puts his hands behind his head and relaxes into his mattress. So this isn't so bad, right? At least right now it isn't. They're not fighting, there's no weird tension, they're just chilling.**

Stan stayed completely still for awhile, his eyes focused on the ceiling. He could hear Stripe rummaging in his pen, which reminded him of Mellow. He was still having trouble falling asleep to all the weird noises she made in the middle of the night. He wasn't going to admit that though to Craig - he had totally lied about being a heavy sleeper, and he wasn't going to show weakness in his ability to take care of pets.

He moved his head to the side to look at Craig, studying the other's face. Did he have pointy features? A little bit, but not really. And he did look remarkably like Stan, in some ways …eye color, hair color. He felt an urge to reach over and touch Craig's hair, but he instead turned to look at the ceiling again, hoping the other didn't see him observing his face in a loving way. That would just be…not after that sort of talk.

"So what are we doing?"

He asked, wondering if Craig would just say nothing. Everyone knew Craig liked doing absolutely nothing. Stan was bothered by it, but not particularly right now. Maybe the key to doing nothing was doing it with someone you liked doing nothing with.

**Craig closes his eyes, content to just be laying there. It sounds a big quiet without his ear buds in his ears, but somehow he doesn't care. He can hear the both of them breathing, and it's… relaxing. Or something.**

**When he hears Stan ask what they're doing, he cracks a kind of crooked half-grin. "What does it look like we're doing?" he asks. Because really, all they're doing is laying there, it's not hard to figure out. Even still, he turns his head to look at Stan, amused expressions still across his face. "But we can do whatever you want to do," he says. He realizes a little too late that that could mean a lot of things, but he brushes it off. He thinks Stan will understand what he means. Right?**

For a few minutes, Stan just let the silence settle in again. It wasn't like he had anything in mind - and he obviously didn't want a repeat of the previous night, or the locker rooms. He needed to wind down. It was one of the reasons he really didn't care about doing nothing - he needed a whole lot more time to just register a blank slate in his mind so he could think about things more clearly.

But he was feeling depressed in a way, he didn't want to say it but figured it was written on his sleeve - just like Kyle and Wendy had told him. So he decided to just come out and say it.

"If anything's on the table..want to..um..cuddle?"

**Craig considers it for a moment, letting the idea roll around in his brain. Normally any kind of physical contact with Stan – good or bad – ends up in some hind of altercation. But right now, they seem calm enough that it might just work out without causing an issue.**

**He eventually shrugs and says "Sure, why not."**

**He brings an arm out from under his head and nods his head to the side once to motion for Stan to come closer. He figures it's pretty obvious what he intends, but then again, Stan is pretty ignorant about everything else, so he might have to explain cuddling, too.**

He was actually surprised when Craig agreed to it. He was almost sure the other would have told him off for suggesting it, but when he accepted, Stan really didn't see a point in rejecting. After a moment, he edged over towards Craig and settled himself in a position of his head right below the other's chin, with one arm curled under him and the other draped over Craig and resting on the bed next to him. With a sigh, he closed his eyes.

**When Stan settles into his chest, Craig lets his arm go where it needs to, around Stan's back. His hand lands flat against Stan's side near his ribs, and he wonders if maybe he shouldn't leave it there, but he doesn't care enough right now. Craig has no doubt that if it makes Stan uncomfortable, he'll tell Craig to fuck off, so it's whatever.**

**He fidgets a bit with his hand on the fabric of Stan's hoodie, and he vaguely wonders if Stan will get too hot wearing it, but decides against saying anything. For one it's not really his business, and for another thing it would just be all kinds of awkward to suggest that Stan take it off.**

**He settles again, letting Stan's weight settle in with his own. He's comfortable, and he wonders why it's not weird. It should be weird to be this comfortable and normal with Stan, but somehow it's not. At the moment, it just feels natural. Like something he should just let happen.**

He was trying really hard to stay awake, but something about the white noise made him drowsy, and he really felt comfortable. It should have been wrong, but it wasn't in this moment, since Craig was being so accommodating. He felt Craig touching the fabric of his hoodie, but by then, his mind was drifting to other things. Wendy, mostly - what she would say, if she was going to get his jacket tonight - was his jacket going to get stolen - Kyle, did he really not want to make out with him anymore? He couldn't tell why that hurt, but it did sort of scare him, like he was a bad kisser or something. And what was with Wendy wanting to see him with Kyle?

The white noise in the room was lulling him to sleep, and the last thing he heard was the clicking of Stripe's water bottle as he drank. His hand went limp on the bed next to Craig, and his breathing slowed down and was even.

**Craig feels Stan's body relax completely, and he doesn't give it much thought until he hears Stan's breathing get deeper. Did Stan just fall asleep? Craig looks down, and sure enough, Stan's asleep.**

**He considers waking him up and driving him home, but he's just way too comfortable. Plus… he kind of likes where Stan is laying. He closes his eyes and tries to let his mind fall blank. It doesn't take him long to fall asleep as well, Stan still tucked up against him.**

Around five thirty, Stan stirred from his sleep. In the night he had moved slightly - he looked as if he had made his way to the headboard of the bed to hug a pillow, leaving Craig just inches away from his lower half. As his eyes opened, he murmured something groggily and in the dim light - not quite morning sun yet - he saw a shape, and automatically assumed it was his dog. Bending down, he planted a kiss on Craig's head, and then muttered, "Gmorning," and slowly pulled himself out of bed.

Oddly enough, he felt he still had his shoes on. Weird. He stalked lazily towards where he thought the door was, and heard Stripe stir in his cage. "Morning, Mellow," He muttered as he felt around, finding the door knob.

Now, so far there was nothing that had obstructed his daily morning routine.

Until he hit the stairs. Or, forgot they were there entirely.

With one frightened gasp, he hit the wall and tumbled down the steps and landed at the bottom with a thud.

**Craig is still asleep when he feels something touch his head. He furrows his brows a bit but doesn't wake. The slight noise of Stan moving around doesn't wake him either, but when he hears a loud crashing, that definitely wakes him up. He sits up in his bed and looks around, trying to figure out what's broken. Wait… why is his door open?**

**He thinks back to any reason it could be open, and then he remembers. Stan fell asleep here last night…**

_**Shit!**_

**He scrambles out of bed and makes his way to his door. He peers down the staircase and sees Stan laying in a pile at the bottom. He resists laughing, because really, who falls down the stairs? But he realizes that Stan is laying on the floor in his dining room at god-knows-what-hour and there's other people that live there. Fuck!**

**He jogs down the stairs and picks Stan up off the floor. He's about to ask if Stan's okay, but what actually comes out is a harsh whispered, "What the fuck!" He hurries Stan back up the stairs and closes his door behind them. He leans back on the closed door, glad he saved Stan before anyone saw him.**

**He stares at Stan for a second, trying to process what's exactly happening. He's not a morning person, and he's a bit slow when he first wakes up. He glances at the clock on his night stand and it's near 5:30 in the fucking morning. Before he can really realize the full weight of the situation, he's more pissed about the fact that he's up so early.**

**Of all the questions he **_**should**_** be asking, the one he **_**does**_** ask is, "Why the Hell are you even awake this early; fuck!"**

"Wh-what- no, don't move-" Stan tried batting Craig off but found the other pulling him up the stairs. He was still groggy but his automatic thought was, oh my god, what if I pulled or broke something? Coach is going to be so angry!

When it turned out he could walk, and he was just somewhat sore, he narrowed his eyes as he looked around the room. What? ..oh crap. He was at Craig Tuckers house. On a school morning. He didn't even have to think of how bad this would look to Wendy - HE thought it was bad.

Glancing at Craig, he noted how flustered he was with sleepiness. …it was actually kind of cute.

"What? Early? Dude, what time do you wake up? This is late!"

**Craig gives Stan a blank stare. Late? **_**Late?**_** "How the fuck is 5:30 in the morning late?" he asks, disbelieving but really just sounding tired.**

**He dismisses Stan, deciding that he's fucking crazy and goes back to flop on his bed. He settles his head into a pillow and closes his eyes, still tired as Hell.**

"**Well if you want to get up and face my family, you go right the fuck ahead, but I'm going back to sleep and going into school late," he says. He's implying that by going in late, neither one of them has to be seen by his parents, but he doesn't know if Stan will pick up on it. So just to clarify, he says, "My parents leave for work right after Ruby leaves for school."**

**After that he just lays there, resisting pulling up his blankets. If Stan is just going to go with it and lay back down, he doesn't really want to be **_**under the blankets**_** with Stan, because no.**

"Fuck." Stan said in response tiredly, his eyes half-closed as he glared at Craig and watched him retreat back to his bed. Staying in Craig's room for another hour, when it was already awkward, wasn't very appealing to him. He decided he was too damn tired to care though, and maybe he could just pretend it was a messed up weekend day where he slept in late…he stalked back to bed, crawling up on the side Craig was furthest away and curled up on his side so he could glare at the wall.

**Craig is glad when he hears Stan finally shut up and crawl back into bed. Maybe this won't be quite as painful as he'd thought; he's just going to go back to sleep.**

After glaring at the wall for at least two minutes, Stan decided to roll over and look at Craig. The other had his eyes closed, and he seemed to be sleeping, anyways. Stan really had an issue with falling asleep - especially somewhere not his own bed - so this was awkward. He studied Craig's face again, and then curled up on his side so he could stare at Craig.

"Isn't it going to be awkward that we both show up at the same time, late?"

He stared at Craig's messed up hair, which made him tempted to ruffle it.

**Craig sighs when he hears Stan speak. He should have known it would be too much to ask to just be able to go back to sleep without interruption. No, that would be too convenient and everything in Craig's life has to be a battle, especially when it involves Stan Marsh.**

**He decides against answering because who the fuck cares what other people think, and instead says, "Is there something you want? Because fuck, I'm fucking tired, and I don't want you fucking talking, so just tell me what the fuck you want and shut the fuck up."**

"I'm just going to stare at you as you sleep, then, go back to sleep."

It was intended to creep Craig out, and if Craig opened his eyes, he could tell Stan was glaring at him irately.

"**Right, you go ahead and do that," Craig says, really not caring. Stan could stare as long as he fucking wanted to, as long as he shut the Hell up. Craig can sleep through staring, Craig can sleep with pretty much anything, actually, but when someone's talking to him? That's just downright annoying. Except Clyde; Craig's pretty much learned to block out Clyde's voice by now.**

"So that doesn't bother you?" Stan asked after a few minutes, and then scooted closer to Craig, eliminating the space between them. Really, he moved so close he was almost touching Craig's nose. He propped up his head with one arm and then stared at the other.

**Craig resists the urge to punch Stan in the head for continuing to speak, deciding that it's not worth it. Pick your battles and all that shit. "No, nothing fucking bothers me. It's 5:30 in the fucking morning; the only thing that's bothering me is that you won't let me go the fuck back to sleep."**

Without giving Craig much time to relish in telling him off, Stan added, "What if I put my hand in your pants? Can you sleep through that too?" It was probably too early to test Craig but Stan was going to anyways.

**Craig lets out a frustrated sigh. "You're not going to stick your hand in my pants," he says, fairly confident that it's true. Then again, Stan has been pretty **_**interesting**_** with his decisions lately, so he supposes Stan might. But still, he's pretty sure Stan won't.**

"**Will you **_**please **_**just shut the fuck up?" he asks, emphasizing please because he really just wants to fucking sleep.**

"I don't know," Stan said in an apathetic tone, "You've got killer bed head going on right now, I might not be able to help myself." He continued to stare at Craig's face, wondering if he could bother the other so much that he stayed awake with him.

**Craig opens his eyes to glare at Stan, not realizing how close the other was until he did so. He doesn't let it phase him, though, and just speaks anyway. "Are you really not going to let me sleep?" he asks, staring Stan in the eye. "I might just throw you back down the fucking stairs and let you face my mom."**

"Oh yeah," Stan said in the same bored tone. "You're going to manhandle me - that's what I like early in the morning." Obviously he was using sarcasm, but he didn't break the connection between their eyes. "Should I take off my hoodie before you put your hands on me?"

"**Ugh, I'm not going to fight with you this early in the fucking morning," he says, his voice still tired. He closes his eyes again and opts for just ignoring Stan. If Stan keeps talking, he'll just… he doesn't know, but he'll do something. Something to make him shut the fuck up.**

"Awwwww..no love for me? Come on, that's just weak." He stared at Craig even though the other was trying to dismiss him by closing his eyes. "Maybe I should just go hug Stripe or something, right. Or use your computer. If you're going to ignore me. You're a real shitty host."

"**Fuck you," is Craig's only response. It's not like those things are something Stan has never done before. He already let Stripe get fresh with Mellow, and he already fucked up his computer, so what more harm could Stan really do? He just continues to lay there, and even stifles a yawn behind his hand. He curls in his knees just a tiny bit and gets comfortable. He's going to sleep whether Stan likes it or not.**

Still gazing at Craig with a look of determination, he let the other think he was going to stay silent for about three minutes. Then he moved his hand over and slipped it under the rim of Craig's pants, and moved it so his hand was cupping Craig's right ass cheek. He still had an indifferent expression on his face, so it really wasn't an indicator to why he just stuck his hand down Craig's pants. Stan really hated being ignored.

**Craig is a bit shocked when he feels Stan's hand slide insides his pants. Okay, he wasn't expecting that, and he's proud of the fact that he didn't jump when he was unexpectedly touched. That fact alone makes this moment great, because it means that Craig can continue to just lay there, like he didn't even notice. If he can just ignore Stan completely, maybe he can actually catch another hour's sleep before they go to school. So that's what he does.**

Dude, was Craig part dead fish or what? Stan thought as he glared at Craig. The bastard wasn't responding to anything, not even an ass grab. With a slightly irritated sigh, he kept his hand where he had put it and then said, "I could move it to the front if that's what wakes you up. Hey, can you sleep through a blow job?"

**Craig frowns at that, not knowing if Stan would actually try to do it or not. Were it someone else, namely Kenny, he'd gladly wake up for that; but Stan? No, that would be a bad idea. He sighs and opens his eyes to give Stan a pointed look. "What. The fuck. Do you want from me?" he asks. He doesn't sound half as exhausted as he feels, but that's not saying a lot.**

**Actually, though, last night was the first full night of sleep he'd gotten in quite a while. Normally he's fighting with Stan or something and doesn't get much sleep. Ironic how his first real sleep in the past week and a half was with the one causing the lack of sleep to begin with.**

Stan stared back, and slowly frowned as Craig returned his gaze with a hard look. He couldn't deny that it made him feel a bit weird with his hand down Craig's pants. He didn't blink or look away however; instead he continued to look sad and said very seriously, "I hate being alone after I wake up." truthfully, that's why Stan slept with a dog.

**Craig has to resist rolling his eyes, because Stan looks completely serious. "Ugh, you're not alone, I'm fucking right here," he says. Fucking really? Why is Craig the one that has to deal with this?**

**He thinks about it for a second, trying to come up with some kind of compromise, because there's no way he's not going back to sleep, and he'd rather not throw Stan downstairs so he doesn't have to face his family's questioning. After a few moments, he comes up with something.**

"**Would you let me fucking sleep if I held you again?" he asks, trying to make it sound as non-awkward as possible, but not really succeeding. Well, he feels a bit awkward, but his voice is always generally flat so he's not sure how it sounds. And really, he doesn't even care if it's awkward because he just wants to fucking go back to sleep.**

"Well..yeah, sure." Stan commented after considering it, and then he glance down at the mound that was his hand in Craig's pants. He was going to remove his hand, but in his refusal to be awake and alone, he had put it there without really thinking about it. Now he was. "Uhh…" he began, pausing awkwardly. "Your…ass. I..um.." He wanted to say he was sorry for grabbing it, but the wrong words came out instead. "It's really warm there."

**Craig does roll his eyes at that. "Yeah okay, I don't care. Just get your hand out of my pants and turn the fuck around so I can do this if it's what's going to shut you up."**

**There's no way Craig is moving from his spot, so if Stan wants to be held, he's going to have to accommodate. Crag doesn't really think about the fact that he just told Stan to spoon up against him, but he also doesn't care. All he cares about is sleeping right now, and if holding Stan will give him that, then he'll do it.**

Stan slowly pulls his hand upwards so his fingers grazed Craig's lower back, and then he stopped for a second before he removed his hand completely. Rolling over, he scooted up towards Craig and then twisted a bit to reach over and grab Craig's arm, not waiting for the other to move it - so he put Craig's arm over his waist for him. He was quiet, but he still had his eyes open. Really, he was fully aware this was spooning, but he was trying to make light of it by thinking of something else. However his mind always came back to the fact Craig's junk was in close proximity to his ass.

**Craig takes note of how slowly Stan removes his hand, but decides that he doesn't want to think about it. He doesn't care what it means. All he cares about is sleep.**

**He lets Stan move his arm because hey, whatever floats Stan's fucking boat. He finally relaxes again, trying to get comfortable with Stan against his chest. After a few seconds, he sighs, thankful that Stan might actually go back to sleep now. He closes his eyes again and attempts to go back to sleep for the hundredth time.**

Stan allows Craig to sleep. He hears rustling downstairs after awhile, and then doors closing. By the time eight rolled around, he was sweating under his hoodie even though the hood was off- Craig's arm was comfortably draped over his waist, but it only generated more heat. Deciding to test the waters, Stan reaches down with his free arm and rubs Craig's hand gently with his thumb. "Hey…jackass. Wake up?" He said softly, his voice low at first. Then he raised it a bit and added, "Dickweed, we're going to miss all of first hour. Get up."

**Craig hears Stan say something, and he scrunches his face in annoyance. Can't he just sleep more? He's so comfortable that he doesn't care; he just wants to sleep all day. Without really thinking about who it is that's in his bed, he mumbles something about "five more minutes" into the back of Stan's hair and tightens his arms hold just a bit. All he wants is just a little bit more sleep, then he'll get up and drive to school. As much as he hates school and would rather just skip today, he doesn't have many skip days left, if any. He'll have to get up eventually.**

Stan's expression scrunched up with partial annoyance with Craig, and annoyance with himself for wanting to drop the subject. In fact, he would have if he wasn't boiling alive under his clothes. He felt like he needed a shower an hour ago because of profuse sweating - now he would probably even go for hosing himself down in the yard. He looked down at Craig's hand, and then smiled slightly as he thought of a rather asinine way to get the other to move. Reaching down to pick up Craig's hand, he brought it to his face and then inserted Craig's middle finger into his mouth, running the flat of his tongue along the creases of his finger and then around it as he sucked on it.

**Craig's eyes open at the feel of someone sucking on his finger.**_**Sucking on his finger?**_** What the fuck? He can feel Stan's teeth lightly graze his flash as he works the finger, and Craig clears his throat awkwardly.**

"**Um. I'm awake, you can stop," he says, trying to take his hand away from Stan's face. Really, that's not how he expected to be woken up. Stan is just full of surprises today, isn't he?**

As soon as he heard Craig's voice, he pulled Craig's finger out of his mouth and exclaimed, "Jesus fucking Christ, it's about goddamn time." He yanked Craig's arm off of him sharply, and moved off the bed. As soon as he was off and standing up, he yanked off the hoodie and itched his head as he dropped it on Craig's bed, then turned to him as he scowled. "I'm hungry as hell, I was going to bite your finger off if you slept any longer." He fanned himself with his hand, unaware it looked girly as he walked off towards Craig's mini fridge. Pulling it open, he grabbed Stripes carrots and took one out and bit into it.

**Craig just watches as Stan all but flings himself from the bed and strips his hoodie off. It can't have been **_**that **_**hot, they didn't even have a blanket. Then again, Craig's been told that he generates a lot of body heat.**

**He frowns though, when he sees Stan go for his mini fridge. Everything in there, save the occasional soda, is reserved for Stripe. "Hey, fuck, no!" he says, getting out of bed as well and snatching the bag from Stan. "It's too fucking early still for you to start pissing me off; I don't even have the energy to hit you."**

**He puts the carrots back in the fridge and shoots Stan a half-assed glare. He stands and makes his way to his door. "I'm going to take a goddamn shower. If you want to eat, I guess you can, it's not like I pay for it. Just not Stripe's food," he says, opening his door and starting for the stairs.**

**He pauses though and thinks for a second. "If you want me to drive you to school you can stick around, just don't fucking break anything." And with that he heads down the stairs.**

Returning Craig's glare, Stan stood there as the other lectured him. As soon as Craig disappeared, Stan stubbornly opened the fridge, fished out five carrots and then tossed three into stripes pen, and ate the other two at the same time as he grumbled, "Selfish bastard can't tell me what to do.." Then he grabbed a soda, popped the top and walked downstairs to the fridge to find food. He rummaged for a few minutes and ended up with a mixing bowl of cereal, a banana and picked up a spoon after finding the silverware drawer. He sat down after he poured himself a huge bowl of cheerios, and glared at a wall as he ate. This was going to be awkward- maybe he should just call in sick for a day or something.

**Craig only takes maybe 10 minutes in the shower, which is longer than normal. He hates wasting time just standing there; bathrooms aren't his favorite place to hang out. But today he lets the hot water beat down on him while he thinks about what he's going to say to Kenny if he sees them walking into school together. How will Kenny ever believe that Stan just happened to spend the night after Stan asked to try being together and they **_**didn't**_** have sex? Maybe he really should just skip today. One more mark on his record is worth not seeing that hurt look on Kenny's face. He finishes up with his shower and doesn't bother shaving his face or anything. Kenny doesn't mind the stubble, so why should Craig care? It's just one day.**

**He wraps his towel around his waist and exits the steam-filled bathroom. He passes through the kitchen on his way to his room, considering the stairs are right in the kitchen/dining area, and shoots Stan a glare just because he can. This past day has been way too nice, so he needs some unnecessary glaring to happen. He reaches his room and shuts the door. He starts finding clothes for the day and putting them on.**

As soon as Craig appeared, Stan directed his gaze on him- and he quickly noticed the glare. With a frown, he stopped shoveling food in his mouth long enough to flip Craig the bird as the other went to his room. With a scowl, he sipped his soda and then sat playing with the cereal as it floated in his bowl. Attempting to make a smiley face, he failed soon to do so and instead of trying again he pulled out his phone and texted his mom he was going to stay home to catch up on homework because football put him behind.

**After he's done getting dressed – in an oh-so-original black t-shirt and blue jeans combo – he heads back down the stairs. He's fucking hungry.**

**He doesn't say anything to Stan at first, instead goes right to the freezer. He pulls out a box of Eggo waffles and puts two of them in the toaster. While he waits, he leans back on the counter, arms folded loosely over his chest. At this point he finally acknowledges Stan, looking over at him and his pile of food remains. "I'm revoking my offer to take you to school; I decided to skip," he says.**

Stan continued to eat like it wasn't a big deal, and after a few minutes his phone lit up. "I'm not going either, I'm sick today." He didn't look at Craig and instead read the back of the soda can like it was more interesting. He vaguely wondered if Craig was going to comment on the spooning, ass grabbing or finger sucking, but he figured he probably wasn't going to mention it.

**Craig's waffles pop, and he sticks another two in the toaster before returning the box to the freezer. He retrieves syrup and a plate and other necessities before returning to his spot near the toaster. Normally he'd eat at the table, but something about sitting down and eating breakfast with Stan in way too homey for Craig's liking. No, he'd rather lean on the counter and hold his plate in his hand.**

**He was going to comment on the fact that Stan is in no way sick and that he should just say he's skipping if he's skipping, but he lets it go. It's not that important to Craig what Stan does, so whatever. He just silently chews his waffles for a bit, until his next two pop as well.**

**Eventually the near calm air in the kitchen starts to eat away at Craig. Even without sitting at the table, he still feels homey. He tries to think of something to say, something Craig-ish in nature. Eventually he comes up with something.**

"**So do you sexually advance on **_**everyone **_**you're trying to annoy, or is it just me?"**

**Yeah, that should be confrontational enough. And it's a good point, too. Stan doesn't want Craig to punch him, so he kisses him. Stan doesn't want Craig to fall asleep so he grabs his ass. Stan wants Craig to wake up, so he sucks on his finger. Who even does that?**

When the topic was finally brought up, Stan started playing with the Cheerios again instead of eating them. Now he was trying to spell out 'FU' in the bowl. With a less than enthusiastic response, he said plainly, "No, you're just special I guess." He reached over on the side of the bowl where he had tucked away the banana, and picked it up. "If we hadn't spooned I probably..I don't know." Peeling back the outside of the banana he still didn't look at Craig as he said, "Probably would have gone down on you." With that, he bit the tip off the banana off and then cast a sideways glance at Craig. If Craig was going to be a bitch, he would be too.

**Craig's lips twitch into a smirk at Stan's response. Did Stan just make a joke? It's hard for Craig to tell when they're even joking anymore, or when they're being serious. Regardless, his response seems automatic. "It's good to know I have that much power over you. Now I know what to do if I ever want free head," he says.**

**He watches at Stan continues to eat the banana, noting his slightly vicious biting. Is that supposed to be intimidating or is Stan trying to be ironic? Again, it's getting hard for Craig to tell anymore. Where's the line between the truth and sarcasm going?**

Stan bit into the fruit again, and then set it on the table. He really intended to creep out Craig, but he was sort of unnerving himself in the process. "Yeah..guess you do know." It would be hard to decipher whether he was being sarcastic or not, because he had unsettled himself and knocked his confidence a bit. Pushing the bowl back, he debated whether he wanted to go home or harass Craig more.

**Craig raises an eyebrow at Stan's sudden change in demeanor. He doesn't say anything about it, because he figures he'd rather not ask, considering what they were talking about beforehand. He doesn't want to know what Stan might have been thinking about.**

**He finishes eating his waffles and rinses the syrup off his plate before sticking it in the dishwasher. He yawns again, still a little tired, but he knows he shouldn't go back to bed. If he lays down again, he'll never get back up.**

**He says, "I'm going to go play x-box," before heading for his stairs again. He doesn't care what Stan does; the only thing he really hopes is that Stan puts his dishes away so his mom doesn't get mad, but he knows that's not going to happen. Why would Stan clean up after himself after he's been such a bitch all morning?**

Stan ignored Craig's comment, and after awhile he eventually decided that the cheerios were too soggy. With a sigh he picked up the bowl and dumped it in the sink, and then shoved it in the dishwasher along with the spoon. He tossed the banana, and then looked around for the recycling- when he couldn't figure out where it was, he left the can empty on the counter. He walked through the house, and then finally took off his boots by the steps, where he looked at some pictures of Craig as a kid. How hilarious would it be to draw fake mustaches on him in these photos? Stan wasn't that much of a shit though, and finally he walked up the stairs and went in Craig's room. He sat cross legged on the others bed, watching the television.

**Craig doesn't acknowledge Stan when he walks in; he was kind of expecting Stan to stay. Not that he wanted Stan to stay, but he didn't think Stan would go home. He continues to play his game, Gears of War, as Stan sits down next to him. He doesn't pay Stan any mind, just keeps playing.**

**The constant sirens on the game are a bit creepy and unnerving, but it's becoming more annoying than anything. Craig doesn't scare by games easily, so it'll take a lot more than some sirens to freak him out.**

**A player comes out of nowhere and shoots Craig's guy in the head before he can manage to kill the other guy. Damnit! Craig is actually pretty good at video games – he always beats Clyde – but sometimes he slips up and gets himself killed. He cursed under his breath and waits for his guy to respawn. In the meantime, he finally decides to say something to Stan.**

"**So do you want to play or are you just going to sit there?" he asks, wondering what Stan is even doing. Why is Stan still there if all he's going to do is watch Craig play shooters…?**

"I'll just watch," Stan commented idly, watching the screen with partial interest. Really, he was afraid to leave Craig's house. For some reason he thought the minute he set foot outside Wendy would be watching, even though she was in school. But he was inwardly debating whether he'd tell her where he was. With a glance at Stripe, he then looked back at Craig and then asked, "Why, am I bothering you."

**Craig starts into the game again after respawning, intending on hunting down that fucker that killed him and killing him six times. He stalks through the game, picking up various materials.**

"**No, you're not bothering me. I just don't understand why you're here if all you're going to do is sit next to me," he says honestly. He figures it's not worth lying about or making a sarcastic comment to, so whatever. Plus he's actually kind of curious. Why would Stan want to just sit there?**

"Maybe I like watching you." Stan said after a moment, wondering if Craig always sucks this much in video games. It wasn't like he didn't want to play- he just wanted to think about other stuff, and he couldn't focus when he was playing a game. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"**Nope," is all Craig says as he finds that other player and destroys him. Okay, revenge is one-sixth complete. Now just to wait for him to respawn so he can stalk him down again. No one kills Craig Tucker and gets off easily.**

**He kills some other players, while he waits, but they're not quite as fun to track down. This other guy he's started a war with is actually pretty good. He's not really interested in playing, though. There's just not much else to do alone in your own house. Well, Stan is there, but Stan doesn't seem very interested in doing anything.**

Stan sat there for a few more minutes before he looked over at his hoodie. He reached over and pulled it towards him, then searched the pocket. Finding his Marlboro cigarettes, he took one out of the carton and then picked his lighter out of the pocket as well. Lighting it up as it was between his lips, he reached down and dug out another cigarette and tossed it at Craig's back.

**Craig feels something hit his back but he doesn't pay it any mind, assuming Stan is just being a dick and trying to be annoying somehow. As soon, as he smells smoke though, he frowns and whirls on Stan.**

"**What the **_**fuck**_**; you can't smoke in here," he says, snatching Stan's cigarette right out of his mouth. He stubs it out on his headboard and turns back to glare at Stan again. "You want my fucking mom to kill me?" he asks, like Stan should have known. He **_**should**_** have known; who actually smokes inside anymore?**

**He notices the cigarette laying on the bed spread behind him and he calms down the tiniest bit. He pauses his game and stands. "Come on, let's go out back," he says, picking up the offered cigarette. He starts for the door and leads the way outside. Their back porch has a fence around it, so there's no chance of anyone seeing Stan and questioning the situation, so why not?**

Instead of freaking out, Stan's eyes widen for a second once his cigarette is taken, and then he rolls his eyes as Craig berated him for smoking indoors. He usually smoked in the basement and then lit a perfumed candle. With a glance at his cigarette remains, he frowns and pulls himself off the bed and stood up, not bothering to fight Craig on it. "Fine," he said, though he left his hoodie on Craig's bed- he only took his lighter and the cigarette package.

**Craig walks through his house and out the back door. He exits the house and leans up against the wall near the door. He remembers too late that he didn't grab his hoodie and therefore doesn't have his lighter. He waits for Stan to light his cigarette and then holds out a hand, waiting to be able to use it.**

Following Craig outside, Stan lingered by the door for a minute as he took out another cigarette, and then lit it. When Craig's hand suddenly went out, he thought for a moment of saying, 'it's my damn lighter go get your own asshole', but he decided to be nice and slowly placed his Bronco's lighter in Craig's hand. It was one of his more precious items in his life, and if Craig didn't return it immediately, he might just have to kick him square in the balls.

Taking a drag of his cigarette, he walked out a bit on the porch instead of leaning on the wall.

**Craig lights his cigarette and holds the lighter back out for Stan to take. He takes in a puff of smoke and tilts his head back to let it out into the air. He'd actually just smoked his last cigarette yesterday, so he's silently grateful that Stan shared, but he doesn't want to say anything. He's had enough reasons to thank and punch Stan lately, and he doesn't really feel like doing either one right now, so he's not going to.**

**The air is a bit chilly, because of wind, but when he looks up, there's hardly any clouds. A nice May day, if he cares to notice. Nice enough that he doesn't quite care that he forgot his hoodie, anyway.**

Turning around to take the lighter, Stan looked at Craig, and then turned back around as he pocketed the lighter in his jeans. He finally broke the silence by saying something.

"So…I talked to my girlfriend about this. She pretty much told me that if we just admit there's something there, we can get over it. It's not what she meant, but really, I think if we just fucked, we'd get over it because it wouldn't be that eventful or great and we'd go back to Wendy and Kenny."

He looked at his cigarette instead of Craig.

"What do you think?"

**Craig looks at Stan when he starts to talk, and then just continues to stare once Stan is done. His face is completely blank, for lack of any better expression to wear. Did Stan just… proposition him? Just like that? Out of nowhere?**

"**So is that way you've been all cuddly-touchy this whole time?" he asks, taking another hit from his cigarette. Maybe that was Stan's reasoning in even coming over at all. Who knows, maybe it was all and act – the whole crying thing – and all Stan really wanted was to get in Craig's pants. He doesn't know, he has no idea how sneaky Stan is.**

**Or maybe he's just thinking about a spur-of-the-moment question way too much because he doesn't want to say yes.**

"**What do I think?" he repeats, running over what he wants in his head. In an unnatural spurt of honesty, he says, "I think that I don't care if there's something between us, or even if I want to do it, because I can't do that to Kenny. I promised."**

"So you'd rather go every single day wondering what the hell it'd be like, and make Kenny wonder why you keep getting in these situations with me." Stan turned as he spoke, still not making eye contact. Instead he walked over to Craig casually, not saying anything at first - until he finally made eye contact. Then he moved closer, and put his cigarette out inches away from where Craig was leaning against the wall; then he leaned against the wall with either hand on both sides of Craig.

"Don't you fucking get it, Tucker? We're two fucking black holes sitting right next to each other. We're going to keep pulling people into our hellhole every time we're close, and we're going to keep hurting people whether we like it or not. I'm not going to destroy my life with Wendy for you, but goddamnit, if we don't neutralize each other now, we're going to destroy every single thing we find enjoyable in life, including the people we love."

He leaned closer, looking upwards at Craig; his eyes half-lidded and his gaze intense.

"I'm not going to let you destroy my life, you bastard. But if you keep ignoring it, we're _both_ _going __**down**_."

**Craig watches as Stan moves, not really sure what Stan's doing but having an idea. He listens as Stan moves closer, taking in his little speech. When Stan leans in and puts out his cigarette, Craig raises an eyebrow, a little surprised by Stan's boldness. When Stan stops speaking, Craig lets it all sink in, and just stares down at Stan, maintaining their intense eye contact.**

"**Look who grew some little baby balls," he says, slightly inwardly somehow proud that Stan isn't being as much of a pussy about this as he normally would be. But it makes Craig suspicious. He takes another drag from his cigarette and blows the smoke out in Stan's face before dropping it to the ground and stepping on it.**

"**Even if I were to agree to this, how could I even trust you? You realize you don't exactly have a good track record going for you, right?" he says, narrowing his eyes down at Stan. It's not angry, more challenging, analytical. How could he trust Stan not to back out again? And what would he tell Kenny?**

His eyes narrowed even more when Craig told him he finally had balls, which he really didn't think was necessary and it pissed him off even more. He was already angry because the other kept insisting his way was better; it wouldn't fix anything. Then again, Stan wasn't really sure if his way would either; but he would go down trying to get rid of whatever this was.

When the smoke rippled past his face and against his skin, he blinked passively and kept his gaze set on the other.

"Here's how it goes. Neither of us ever speak a word of this. No one ever knows except for us." He moved closer, as if he were taunting the other; his eyes interlocked with Craig's.

"And I'm not going to back out. Unless you want me to be on top, that is." The comment had just a hint of sarcasm in it, but the seriousness of his expression remained strong.

**Craig actually considers this offer now, as he feels his adrenaline start to pick up with the thought. He can't believe he's considering it at all though; a kiss would break Kenny's heart on its own, but Stan and Craig fucking? That would destroy him.**

**But as Craig is standing there, staring down at Stan, staring up at him, and their bodies are already so close and he can see Stan's chest rising and falling with his breathing and the clouds in Stan's eyes…**

**Stan isn't kidding.**

**Stan is actually going to do this if Craig agrees.**

…**is Craig going to agree?**

**He stands away from the wall, making sure not to get so close to Stan to knock him backwards, but they're still pretty damn close. He can feel the sparks of electricity practically singing the air, and he knows he's going to agree whether he wants to or not. It's not a choice anymore.**

**Without saying anything, Craig stoops down and grabs Stan around the waist. He lifts, and actually hauls Stan over his shoulder. He turns and opens the back door, carrying Stan back into his house like a prize in a sack. He carries him all the way up the stairs and kicks the door shut with his foot. He deposits Stan on his bed, none too gracefully but he knows Stan will be okay. He pulls his shirt up over his head and shoots Stan a predatory look as he crawls onto the bed.**

"**If you want to do this, then let's fucking do this."**

For a split second, Stan's anger was fleeting as he felt himself lifted off the ground by Craig. It gave him slight vertigo as he was thrown over the other's shoulder, and carried off like Craig was some sort of pirate collecting booty. …technically…No, he was a bit pissed with the new development, but he was too taken aback by the sudden change that he stayed quiet as Craig carted him upstairs.

When the other tossed him onto the bed, he bounced for a moment before he watched Craig pull off his own shirt. His heart was pounding his chest as he propped himself up on his elbows, still dizzy.

"Wait- what-" Stan began, feeling warm as Craig crept closer - he instinctively moved backwards, though really couldn't go very far considering he was sprawled out on the bed.

"What the hell was that! I have legs! I can walk up stairs, you asshole!"

**Craig just smirks, crawling fully over Stan and just looming there, tauntingly. "Quit bitching; you liked it, that's why you didn't fight back," he says. He leans down close to Stan's face, letting his eyes fall half lidded. "Besides, you asked for it."**

**His weight is in his hands on either side of Stan's head, and his knees are settled between Stan's. He just hovers, oh so close, but not actually touching Stan anywhere. He leans his head down just a bit further, so his lips aren't even an inch away from Stan's. "Are you going to kiss me?" he asks, his voice quiet, but completely filled with something. Something raw.**

**That's kind of how Craig feels, too. His blood is pumping and his adrenaline is flowing and his skin feels hot. He can feel how much he needs this, now that he's on top of Stan, and he realizes that Stan was probably right. After this, maybe they can go back to normal.**

"Wha- No, I didn't because - fu.." Stan stuttered, his confidence shot. Craig was being overwhelmingly dominant, and he was feeling flustered. He couldn't comprehend how he had gone from taunting Craig, to suddenly being topped by Craig. Frustration was building up as he stared at Craig, and he narrowed his eyes as he leaned in closer, their lips almost touching. Electrifying. But instead of responding to Craig's question, he whispered, "Make me, you dick."

**Craig's smirk grows a bit with Stan's stuttering. How could Stan ever think he's **_**not**_** a bottom?**

**At Stan's demand he hums an affirmative before dipping in the rest of the way to connect their mouths. He lets his eyes fall shut and just enjoys the feel of Stan's lips on his. It makes his heart pound, and he's not sure why. It's just a kiss; they've even kissed before now, so why is it so exciting?**

**He brings a hand down and presses it flat across Stan's abdomen. After a few seconds, he pushes it up a bit and lets it slide under the hem of Stan's shirt. He slowly trails his hand up, letting it make as much skin contact with Stan's stomach as possible on his way.**

Feeling Craig's lips press against his, he pressed back forcefully as he moved one arm to reach up and his right hand fell on the crook of Craig's neck, toying with the hair at the curve. He felt Craig's hand slowly trailing upwards against his skin, and it occurred to him his shirt was going upwards with Craig's hand. Was he trying to strip him? What if he didn't want to be stripped right away? His eyes opened as he reached up with his right hand further up the back of Craig's head, and then pulled forcefully as he moved to wrestle Craig off top of him so he could straddle the other.

**Craig grunts when he feels Stan tug on his hair, resisting against the pull and making the nerves in his scalp go crazy. He follows Stan's movements, but uses it as more of a guide than Stan's intended pushing. Whatever Stan's doing, it can't be that bad; he's almost positive Stan isn't going to try and leave him again. Almost.**

Once he had Craig on his back on the bed, Stan was now straddling his lap. Staring at the other, he narrowed his eyes with a hint of seduction; even though he was truthfully a bit scared Craig would shove him off onto the floor. His hands trailed down to the rim of Craig's jeans, which was dangerously close to his own body - and he unfastened the button and unzipped his jeans.

**Craig watches as Stan's hands undo his pants and he doesn't say anything about it. He waits until Stan has his pants completely open and then sits up, disrupting whatever Stan had been trying to do. Though, Craig has his suspicions that Stan is bullshitting and he doesn't actually know what he'd been about to do anyway.**

**Upon sitting up, He catches hold of Stan's shirt and doesn't give Stan time to protest before it's off of him. He leans forward just a bit, with one hand resting on Stan's hip and the other slowly working on Stan's belt, and moves his mouth next to Stan's ear. "What was that you were saying earlier about going down on me?" he asks, his voice a husky kind of whisper. He continues to undo Stan's belt, and once its open he works on the jeans themselves. He makes sure to only brush the growing bulge there, not wanting to give Stan too much satisfaction just yet.**

His face turned a deep shade of red when Craig wrangled his shirt from his chest, and then the other's hands immediately went for his belt no more than thirty seconds later. Again, he found Craig dominating him every time he tried to do something - the other just had to pick up the pace and boss him around in the process. When he feels Craig lean forwards, Stan's eyes went half lidded as he gazed downwards, his face burning with agitation as he tried to form a response that came out not in fragments, but actually be what he was trying to say. Instead he felt Craig's hand brush past his more sensitive area, and instead of forming an actual refusal, it came out as; "I-I don't know how..to do that."

"**It's a learning experience," he says, a bit of humor leaking into his voice. He can't help but think it's kind of funny how big Stan talks, and then when it comes down to it, he actually has no idea what he's doing. Then it's not quite as funny because it makes Craig remember that Stan is still a virgin, and he doesn't know how he feels about that. But Stan has to lose it sometime… right? So why does it matter?**

**He slips his hand into Stan's jeans as he thinks, rubbing against Stan through his boxers. Should he do anything significant because it's Stan's first? Granted, they don't mean a whole lot to each other, but that just kind of seems like common courteously, and as much as people might think otherwise, Craig isn't that much of a dick.**

**He considers… should he return the favor? It's really not something he offers a lot, and he doesn't really like doing it, but he doesn't think Stan knows that. So would it me like a secret here-you-go kind of thing?**

**Ugh, he's thinking about this way too much. **_**Just go with it**_**, he tells himself. Do what's in-the-moment. And that's when his eyes snap back into focus on what's in front of him. He looks at Stan's face, and he leans forward on instinct, kissing him hard.**

Slightly trembling, Stan tried breathing evenly but it was starting to get erratic. He wasn't aware Craig was thinking at all about anything, because he had his eyes shut and he was trying not to make enough noise to disturb Stripe. He didn't know how awkward it would feel if he could hear a guinea pig squeaking during…this.

When Craig moved in to kiss him, he moved his mouth to return the kiss but found it difficult to even do that.

"Just..stop, stop," He said at first, and then tried to reprieve himself as he said, "..no..don't..goddamnit."

**Craig pulls his head back a bit, breaking from the kiss. He pauses his hand in its teasing and stares at Stan for a second. "…what's wrong," he says. It's meant to be a question, but he's not really sure how to handle being told to stop. He supposes he should have seen it coming though, because fucking of course Stan would tell him to stop.**

**He pulls his hand away from Stan's pants and resists the looks of frustration that threatens to break out on his face. Maybe it isn't even frustration; maybe it's disappointment. Either way Craig refuses to let it show, because if this is just another one of Stan's sick jokes, he's not going to let Stan know that he actually fell for it. Again… Fucking fell for it again.**

Stan opened his eyes, at first extremely confused why Craig's hand suddenly was…not there. He looked at Craig with a genuinely perplexed expression on his face, and then he realized what he had done. Was he thinking out loud? His stomach had been doing flip flops, and he really was worried about involuntarily throwing up on Craig if he kept throwing surprises his way. With a frown he said, "What the fuck, don't stop. I said don't stop. Why are you doing this to me?" He asked the questions rapid fire, almost pissed that Craig would just abandon him mid handjob. "You're a fucking bastard."

**Craig does allow himself to frown at that, brow furrowing as he a little pissed off himself. "You're the fucking one that said to stop, asshole," he says, now confused. At the same time, he's now aware that Stan hadn't actually wanted him to stop. That means Stan had just gotten a taste of his own fucking medicine.**

"**Sucks when you get cut off, doesn't it?" he asks, allowing the venom he feels to leak into his voice. But then he thinks, and he has a bit of an idea. He gives Stan a look and doesn't say anything for a second.**

"**If you want me to keep going you're going to have to fucking participate, too," he says. He's not sure how Stan will take that, but Craig hasn't even been touched yet, and he'd fucking appreciate it right about now.**

Stan looked visibly hurt as Craig said he got a taste of his own medicine - it wasn't like he had intended for it to be that. He was having trouble deciding whether he was angry with himself for saying something stupid, or Craig for taking it the wrong way - but after hearing Craig say that Stan hadn't exactly been participating, he glared at him. What? Hadn't been participating?

…oh.

He realized that after Craig threw him off with his series of dominating actions, he hadn't exactly jumped right back in. Maybe it was because he was turned on, or he wasn't thinking clearly. Either way, he was irked with Craig - hadn't he **started** this whole thing? Hadn't he suggested it in the first place?

With a less then pleased glare, he drifted over towards Craig - putting his hands on the other's shoulders as he shoved him down on his back again forcefully. Face to face with him, his blue eyes focused on Craig's, he moved in closer and ran his tongue on the curve of Craig's neck, and then whispered, "So you want me to bite you?" His lips were extremely close to Craig's skin.

**Craig just continues to glare as Stan glares back at him. What the fuck is even going on; are they doing this or not?**

**Then Stan takes him by his shoulders and pushes him backward onto the bed. Well that certainly wasn't something Craig expected, but it wasn't unpleasant. When Stan licks his neck, Craig all but shivers, just anticipating the bite he knows is coming. Then Stan asks, and Craig can't help the small chuckle that escapes his throat. "Haha, mm, yeah, that'd be nice," he says, almost a mumble.**

**Bite him, touch him, kiss him, Craig doesn't care, as long as Stan starts doing **_**something**_**. He even brings a hand up and runs it through Stan's hair, encouraging him to do it.**

Running the tip of his teeth along Craig's skin, he still hesitated on biting the other. For one, they both had significant others who would notice any new marks- and the idea of Kenny noticing a bite mark on Craig's neck really bothered Stan, considering it happened before. But he was so close to Craig, and he could feel the warmth of the other radiating off onto his skin. Moving his right hand along the other side of Craig's neck, and his left arm helped him keep his balance; he kept his mouth tantalizingly close. He commented quietly, "I can't. Kenny would see it."

**Craig has to keep himself from shivering with Stan's teeth running along his skin. Just **_**bite**_** already, goddamnit.**

**At the mention of Kenny, Craig's heart sinks a bit into his stomach. "Fuck, can you **_**not **_**talk about him? You're going to make me fucking stop," he says, trying to keep his breathing steady. He can still feel Stan's lips lingering, though, just barely not touching his neck, and he just fucking wants it. "And yes you can, just, fuck, just don't bite as hard as you did last time. It doesn't have to leave a mark."**

**His hands move to hold onto Stan's hips because he needs to be touching something other than air. "Just fucking do it," he says, a bit strained. He can't take suspense; if something is going to happen, it should just happen, he shouldn't have to be teased by it.**

Sensing Craig's frustration, the corners of Stan's mouth turned upwards in a coy smile. Really, it was sort of amusing having the other shaken underneath him, especially when he already thought Stan would back out. It made him realize just how much Craig **wanted **him - no, **needed** him. Trying not to think in depth of what that might mean, he mused aloud at Craig's statement - "Where would the fun be in that." Then he opened his mouth and bit sharply into the curve of Craig's neck, obviously intending for it to make a significant brand mark of the pattern of his teeth.

**Craig catches his breath when Stan's teeth finally sink into his skin. He tries to focus his breathing and tries not to let his back arch, but his toes just end up curling instead. His grip tightens on Stan's hips and he tugs a bit on Stan's opened jeans, inadvertently bringing them down a little.**

"**Fuck," he murmurs. The pain in his neck is piercing, but it's mixing with something else that he could never describe even if he tried, and it's shooting down his spine in waves. "You should touch me," he says, now even more driven to have it happen than he was before.**

After around twenty seconds of digging into the others' skin with his teeth, he slowly moved away- but trailed his teeth over the already sensitive skin as he did so. Looking at Craig with a challenging gaze, he hovered close to the others' lips as he inquired stubbornly, "And what makes you think I'm going to take directions?" Obviously he was trying to get some sort of rise out of Craig - whether it was from anger or in his unfastened pants, one couldn't be too sure.

"**You're such a bitch," he says, leaning his head up to catch Stan's lips again. If Stan isn't going to do it on his own, then Craig will just have to help him. Again.**

**He parts his lips in invitation, and moves his tongue to coax Stan's open as well. He takes the hand that Stan hadn't been using for balance in his own, and slowly starts to move it downward. He does it slow to keep it subtle, so Stan won't jerk his hand away or something. All he wants it to be touched. Or blown, but hey, gotta start small, right? That might not even happen anyway, considering Stan's offer was that they fuck. Doing it all in the same time might be too much for Stan, considering his virgin-ness.**

**Goddamnit, Craig really needs to stop reminding himself about that.**

Stan pressed his lips against Craig's, and then pushed his tongue forcefully into the others' mouth. His tongue explored the back of Craig's front teeth, from canine to canine before he realized his other hand was being abducted and relocated down south. He pulled out from the kiss and stared at Craig a moment, trying to decide whether he was going to allow the other to dictate his movements, or if he was going to carry on with his bitchiness. His hand already was nearing the target however, and he decided to go along with it - his fingers flexing in a slowed stroke over the length of Craig. "…are you trying to get me to…" He stalled, hoping Craig had forgotten the whole blow job thing.

**Craig lets Stan's tongue into his mouth, but not without a bit of a fight. Even if he lets Stan control something, he can't let him have **_**all**_** the control. No, that just wouldn't be okay.**

**Stan pulls away from the kiss, but Craig doesn't have time to care because just seconds later **_**Stan is touching him**_**.**

**He bites down on his own lip, letting his eyes fall shut and just enjoying the feel of someone else's hand on him. He's not really sure why the fact that it's Stan somehow makes it better, but he tries not to focus on that. He gets distracted from his thoughts anyway when Stan speaks.**

"**Trying to get you to what?" he asks, though he's not really sure how he even found the words.**

Somehow this time - maybe because of Stan's familiarity with Craig's dick - he could actually look the other in the eyes as he caressed him slowly. He was red however with some sort of suppressed shame and embarrassment from having the skin of his hand make intimate contact with the rubbery skin of Craig's man part. With a frustrated tone he said in a slightly broken voice, "Blow job." Somehow he didn't think it would be the best thing for someone with an overactive gag reflex to go down on another.

"**Not my call," Craig says, holding himself back from bucking up into Stan's hand. As funny as it would be later, if he made a move like that and Stan wasn't expecting it and fell of the bed or something, it would just piss Craig off right now. "It's all you, bro," he says, trying to get his point across, but not really caring because Stan is touching him now so it doesn't matter anymore. And really, Craig hates giving them enough to understand not wanting to do it, so it's not like he'd force him.**

**Feeling like he's now being the inactive one, he lifts one of his hands again to slide it back into Stan's pants. This time, though, he reaches past Stan's boxers and actually takes him in his fist. "Though, if your goal was sex, I don't want you to get worn out with just this, so…" he allows himself to trail off as he moves his hand on Stan slowly. He's sure Stan will get the drift of what he was saying. And it's actually a worry Craig is having, too. Stan might play sports, but stamina in bed is a whole other story.**

"No, I don't want to-" Stan was going to say, 'give a blow job', but the minute he felt Craig's palm wrap around him his eyes widened. Sure, he had seen it coming, but really, somehow half of the time he thought Craig was going to actually shove him off and tell him he was a bastard - maybe it was some sort of phobia of rejection he had after Wendy dumped him so many times. Even after getting back together, he still was a nervous wreck as to when she would break up with him next, since he never initiated it. Then again, back to the topic of the blow job; he already went down on Wendy so often that he probably could have been considered a lesbian at this point, so what did it matter with Craig…?

"Ah-ahh.." His eyes narrowed as he tried to focus on what he had been saying, but he had completely forgotten, and his own hand had started to clench involuntarily - possibly a little too hard, which he realized after managing to focus. Why was he so - no, he wasn't that into it. This was purely …getting rid of tension. Yeah, he didn't have any feelings for Craig…right?

Glaring at Craig as he decided to increase the friction between Stan's hand and Craig's cock, he said with a fragmented yet sarcastic tone, "You're not saying that I'm quick, are you."

**Craig scoffs, somehow finding his sarcasm despite what he's feeling. He opens his eyes to look up at Stan, hopefully to catch his eye as he speaks. "I'm saying I wouldn't know; but if you're going to fucking quit after coming once, then I'm saying we should fucking skip this part." His words are a little frustrated, but his voice is hindered by his harsh breathing.**

**Stan apparently felt it was necessary to pick up speed, so Craig does too. He tightens his loose fist so that it fits snugly and pumps a little harder. He's not about to be one-uped, in any sense of the word. In fact, Craig is getting a little sick of being the one under Stan. And, now that he thinks about it, Stan bit him pretty damn hard, and there's probably going to be a mark, even if Stan said he didn't want to leave one. Craig'll have to get him back for that one.**

If his eyes could shoot daggers at Craig, they would be - was he really insinuating that he would pass out after one go. Seriously? Craig, the one who lazed around gym class, was insinuating he could go longer then Stan, who ran around the football field ten times a day. What. A. Douche.

As if it were some strange form of competing, Craig had started to pump faster, which made Stan's back arch as he tried to contain himself. No, he wasn't going to be shown up, and he wasn't going to let Craig get ahead of him - and he definitely wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction of getting him off. Moving his hand quicker, he bent down - carefully doing so as to not make Craig punch him where he didn't want to be as he pumped his fist, he slowed down his hand as he kissed the front of Craig's shoulder, and then dug his teeth into his skin again. At the same time, his hand stroked the other roughly.

**Craig bites back a groan when Stan's teeth are in his flesh again and he arches a little off the bed. Okay, yeah, Stan is done being on top now.**

**He takes the hand that's currently not in Stan's pants and shoves up on Stan's chest. He tumbles them over and gets back on top of Stan, the way he was before. The position doesn't really allow for Stan's arm to reach all the way down to Craig's pants anymore, but that's okay. If Stan is trying to make this a competition, then Craig will make it a fucking competition.**

**He keeps working his hand in Stan's jeans as he leans forward. The lean in his body pushes Stan's legs out a little more, but he doesn't notice because he has something else in mind. He leans close to Stan's ear and whispers, "If you're so confident, then I'll be sure not to fucking hold back."**

**He moves down a bit and noses Stan's neck, teasing him. He then latches onto a patch of flesh near the base of Stan's neck. He tries not to use his teeth too much, but he works the flash in his mouth, focusing his energy on leaving a dark purple bruise. He keeps up with his pumping as he releases Stan's skin and moves to another patch to start again.**

"Uhg-" Stan growled as the other moved him off top - Tucker just couldn't handle being on bottom, could he? Then again- he flipped Stan pretty easily, and he couldn't avoid the worry he felt as Craig now mounted him. He removed his hand from Craig's pants, though he didn't know exactly what to do with himself as Craig leaned forwards, pushing his legs apart. "Goddamnit, you bastard," He said a little breathlessly as he flushed deep red, averting his eyes with annoyance towards the ceiling. Craig was a goddamn asshole.

He could feel the beads of sweat forming on his forehead, and he tried to stubbornly ignore how quick he was actually breathing. 'Goddamn Craig' was the only thought that was going through his head before the other's lips touched his neck and began to suck on the sensitive skin, when the words in his head 'goddamn Craig' somehow suddenly had morphed to, 'goddamn Craig, **yes**'. With a groan he tried to motivate his hand to push Craig off, but found his hands were clenching the sheets on the bed instead on either side; soon he unfortunately lost control over his urges. Releasing himself on Craig's hand, he made a frustrated growl and declared, "Fuck you, Tucker, you fucking, you're a fucking bastard…fuck."

Embarrassment washed over him as he tried to close his eyes and avoid looking at Craig. This was the actual first time Craig had gotten this far, and somehow it was linked to a feeling of defeat for Stan, as they had been battling wills the entire time. He couldn't help but feeling frustration over losing and frustration over someone like Craig winning, especially when his body was the one that decided the victor.

**When Craig fells Stan hit his end, he smirks against Stan's neck – which he's left at least three good marks on by this point – and sits up enough to look at Stan's face. His cheeks are flushed with color and his bangs are starting to stick to his forehead. Craig ignores the little flip it makes his stomach do.  
"Don't tell me you're finished already… You can go more than once, right?" he asks, his voice scathingly taunting. He's ridiculously satisfied with the fact that Stan came first, meaning that Craig's won this round.**

**He slowly brings his soiled hand out of Stan's jeans, and for a second he doesn't know what to do with it. He considers wiping it on Stan's pants because that would be funny as fuck, but he eventually decides to just wipe it on his sheets. He's going to have to wash them after this anyway, and he's sure it's not the only time it'll get on his sheets today so why not now.**

**He leans in to give Stan a victory kiss, even if he expects to be pushed away. Stan is probably pretty pissed off that he lost, so it wouldn't surprise Craig.**

His blood boiled as he finally felt Craig move away. His eyes were still closed, and he refused to look at the other. He briefly focused on the sound of Craig wiping his hands on the bed, which only made himself feel more ashamed and defeated. Lying in his back, he thought of what Craig said about going again - of *course* he could, but at this point, he was feeling like murdering the bastard. Whether it was out of passion or just reminiscent of actually wanting to kill Craig, he didn't really know. With a frown, he could feel Craig's presence growing closer, and then he felt a kiss. No. No, he was not going to act like Stan was the woman in the bed, he wasn't going to cry after, and he wasn't going to put up with this.

Opening his eyes, he forced himself in a sitting position, and then shoved Craig with a renewed force towards where the top of the bed was against the wall - hoping the bastard hit it full force. Crawling over, he reached down and pulled his belt from his drooping pants - and then grabbed both of Craig's wrist and effectively immobilized his hands by fastened the belt to the point it locked into another link, acting as large zip tie.

He moved a moment to shed his pants - because they really were about to fall off and he didn't want to trip on them, and after all he still had his boxers on. He climbed onto Craig and grabbed his hair roughly with one hand and shoved his other hand downwards under the rim of Craig's pant line, grabbing him again as he stared him in the eyes with a blank expression on his face.

"You're going to have to fight me to top, you son of a bitch."

**Craig takes the shove in stride; even if he hits the wall pretty hard, he saw it coming. It takes him a second to regain focus, though, after being shoved so hard, and by the time he knows what's going on, his hands are bound together.**

**He raises an eyebrow at Stan, not really upset, but not understanding. He thought Stan liked being restrained, not restraining. It doesn't work both ways, as far as Craig knows. He watches Stan strip his pants and wonders what the fuck Stan is doing. When Stan grabs him again, Craig has to keep from wincing. He's still hard, and it's almost painful, but it feels good to be touched again.**

**As soon as Stan speaks, he understands what's going on. His smug regrows on his face, and he gives Stan a look. "You're that upset that now you're going to try and top? Please. Even **_**you**_**know that's not going to happen; you had to tie me up to even get an advantage," he says. It's hard to keep his voice strong when Stan's hand is on his dick, but he manages to do it somehow.**

Stan moved his hand rhythmically, his eyes still narrowed as he glowered at Craig's words. There was no words to describe how pissed off he was feeling, and Craig making a speech while he was getting off by Stan's doing wasn't helping either. He moved his hand faster - if that didn't shut the bastard up, then…

Descending on the other as he pulled back his hair again, this time a powerful tug to reveal the other's neck, he moved to bite him, but stopped as he recalled that Craig had probably given him a decent amount of hickeys that he'd have to cover up later. If the bastard wanted to one up him, well he'd just do the same.

Moving downwards, arching his back - he traced with his free hand right below Craig's collar bone. Then he leaned in and bit into him - not a full fledged bite, but a nip - hard enough to make a dent.

**Craig resists making any noise as Stan works his hand faster, refusing to give in to it, but when Stan pulls back on Craig's hair, Craig can't stop the groan from escaping his throat. Stan pulls so hard that his head actually bows backward, and Craig has to bite into his lip to keep from doing it again.**

**When Stan nips at his collar bone, it's about all he can take. He only lasts a few more seconds before he spills in Stan's hand. He sits there for a second, his breathing labored and trying to gather his thoughts. All he can think, though, is that he wants Stan. Now.**

**He brings his bound hands up and puts them behind Stan's neck. He brings him in close and smashes their mouths together. His tongue forces its way into Stan's mouth and he presses hard into the kiss. He leans forward and backs Stan back onto the bed.**

**Once he has Stan on the mattress, he rests his weight in his elbows on either side of Stan's head, letting his bound hands lay above it. He presses their bodies close as he continues the kiss, and he loves the feel of Stan's chest pressed up against his own. He moves his one leg to be between Stan's and rubs his thigh against Stan's crotch.**

**He finally breaks the kiss to speak, but he leaves his lips lingering close to Stan's. He looks Stan in the eye and says, "I'd like to take my pants off now if you'd be so kind as to untie my hands."**

Once he felt his hand grow warm and wet, Stan stared at Craig as he breathed heavily. Something about this was satisfying on some level, but he really wasn't sure how - had he wanted this? Why? Gazing at the other as he took his hand out of Craig's pants slowly, he stared at the dense liquid remains on his fingers. He wasn't paying attention when Craig began moving again, and he looked upwards with a slightly startled look on his face as the other grew closer and pressed his lips against his. Returning the kiss, he held his messy hand idly as he felt the other push him back on the bed.

Again, Craig was taking the reigns- Stan connected his gaze with Craig's while they kissed, his confidence faltering as he was lowered backwards. He couldn't really use his hands, so he continued making out- his tongue battling off Craig's as he tried to think of something other then what he was feeling. The sensation of Craig's skin rubbing against his own was setting his body afire. The minute he felt Craig's thigh pressing against him, he breathed in quickly, trying to keep himself from igniting in what he was sure was possible spontaneous combustion from a dangerous mixture of feeling degraded and aroused at the same time.

When the kiss was ended, Stan gazed breathlessly at the other for a moment, trying to figure out what he wanted. Realizing Craig's hands were bound, he smiled slightly as he realized Craig couldn't take off his own pants. "I thought with how you talk about it you'd be able to do it with your arms tied behind your back…really." He challenged the other, raising an eyebrow as he moved the hand that was still covered with Craig's earlier accident towards his face, and then he looked at Craig as he licked his hand: never breaking eye contact as he did so.

**Craig watches Stan lift his hand, and his eyebrows raise in surprise when Stan actually licks the come off it. "Did you just…?" he starts to ask, actually shocked that Stan did that. But then again, Stan seems to like doing things that art unexpected to try and catch Craig off guard, so Craig should be used to it by now. He shakes the thought and tries to focus on the comment Stan made before doing that.**

**He narrows his eyes, meeting Stan's daring gaze. "Sure, I could do that, but you'd be in a fuck of a lot of pain. Unless you feel like doing it yourself… But I dunno, I'm not that into watching that kind of thing."**

**He lets that sink in for a second, letting Stan realize what he means. He continues to stare Stan in the eye as he waits for Stan to react. "So I think we'd both benefit here if you just fucking undid my hands."**

Staring at him with a less than amused gaze, Stan debated on whether he should leave Craig tied up just to further his aggravation or actually undo his hands. The curiosity was building as he stared at Craig however, and when the other taunted him, he reached upwards and unfastened the belt in a half-enthusiastic obedience. He pulled the belt off Craig's hands and threw it on the other side of the bed, and then stared back at Craig, his eyes unblinking.

**Craig rubs at his wrists once they're freed, them being a little sore from being bound together like that. He sits up a bit and stares down at Stan, trying to decide if this is actually going to happen or not. On one hand, they'd be **_**really**_** cheating; intentional, sober fucking. On the other hand, they've already gone this far… so why not have fun doing it?**

**He sits back more and removes himself from Stan completely. He makes his way over to his dresser and digs around in the top drawer for a second. When he returns to the bed, he tosses a condom and a little thing of lubricant onto the bed next to Stan.**

"**Strip," he says, pulling off his own pants. Once he's gotten rid of the rest of his clothing, he crawls back onto the bed, back to his place on top of Stan.**

Staring at the other still, Stan tried to thinking that he was actually serious. Somehow, what happened in the locker rooms seemed like a nightmare that didn't actually happen, as he associated it with hunger - so he didn't really believe Craig would go the next step. When the other said strip, he looked down at his boxers, and then reluctantly pulled them down and discarded them. His heart was beating heavily in his chest, yet his expression was blank because he wasn't really sure what he should be feeling right now - or whether Craig would actually do anything. Somehow it still seemed implausible when the other sat on top of him naked.

**Craig stares down at Stan, hovering over him. Their bodies are just barely not touching, and Craig isn't sure how he feels about it. He still wants it – a lot more than he thought he would, actually – but now that they've gotten this far it feels… different.**

"**You're sure you're okay with this, right?" he asks, voice a little quiet. He already knew before that this might be an awkward moment, but he didn't expect it to feel this… what is this? He can feel his heart beating, and his head is swimming in something unknown.**

**He feels like he really wants to kiss Stan, but it's not a physical desire. He doesn't act on it, because he's afraid of what it might mean if he does, or how it might feel. Really, there's too much feeling going on right now, and Craig just wants it to stop. Can't this just go back to being mindless fucking around? When did it change?**

**No, it didn't change. That's stupid; this is still just venting. They're just getting it out of their systems.**

Usually, Stan would have shot back something dripping with sarcasm, but his mind wasn't stringing together logical thoughts. Instead, he was focused on how far from him Craig was. With a frown, he said rather plainly, "Yeah" to Craig's question - he really couldn't think of a reason to decline the other. Then again, he couldn't imagine how pissed off Craig would be if he backed out suddenly at this point…again.

**Craig still hesitates, because he still thinks it might be a bad idea, but he locks eyes with Stan and leans back down for another kiss. He lets his eyes fall half closed, and then shut as he presses into the kiss. He brings a hand up and runs it through Stan's hair, tilting his own head for a better angle. It's slow; completely unlike any of the other kisses they'd had that day, and he's not sure why. It's slow like the one from the other night, in the street.**

**After what feels like a full minute, Craig starts to feel a chill, so he brings his head away. Okay, maybe he can forget that just happened. Forget it and move on to the next thing.**

"**Um," he says, trying to think of what to tell Stan. "I'm going to… get you ready now," he finishes, almost awkwardly. He hopes Stan will somehow get his non-existent hint to forget about that kiss and focus on what he's doing instead. He sits up a ways and scans the area of the bed next to scan to find the lubricant, and then reaches for it.**

It started to occur to Stan why this was a bad idea. Really, it should have been expected all along, and if he had actually talked to someone else other than his own imagination about it, maybe he would have seen the errors in his planning. But when Craig's lips press up against his, and draws him into a prolonged kiss full of what Stan was sure was emotions; he felt the other's hand through his hair and he was tempted to say something that he really shouldn't when Craig pulled away. He bit his tongue however, and stared at the other with a slightly confused look on his face as Craig decided to move to the next thing. Maybe it was best if they just didn't…think. Or feel, really.

For a brief second, Stan considered telling Craig that he didn't want to do it. Not because it was true; some part of him just felt like being a major asshole to Craig and he knew the first three times Craig had really pissed the other off when he denied him. However, he decided ultimately against saying anything at all because he didn't want to discourage Craig.

**Craig picks up the lube and pops open the lid. He squeezes some of it into his hand and coats his three fingers with it. He drops the bottle back on the bed and stares at Stan for a second before quietly saying "Lift your hips," as he guides Stan's hips anyway with his other hand.**

**He moves his slickened fingers under Stan and then gives him another look. It's supposed to be a somewhat comforting look because he knows that Stan is probably freaking out on the inside, but Craig can't bring himself to make any kind of face other than flat.**

"**Okay, so this is going to feel really weird, but you just have to trust me and relax, alright? It'll hurt a little, but I'm going to try and make it not. You just **_**really**_** have to remember to stay relaxed, otherwise I can't do anything about it," he explains. He dealt a lot with a freaking-out Tweek back in the day, so he sort of already knows what's going through Stan's head.**

**He presses a finger against Stan's entrance and waits a second. "Ready?" he asks. He feels a bit uneasy, remembering again that Stan is a virgin, but at least Craig knows what he's doing and he's not going to hurt Stan or something. That would just be bad.**

He vaguely wonders how many guys Craig has actually slept with as Craig popped open the bottle of lube. Inside he was a dark hole of nerves, trying to not think too much about the mechanics - but it was too difficult not to, considering Craig was pulling him closer and propping him up. And it wasn't helping he couldn't actually tell what Craig was thinking by reading his expression - what if he hurt him on purpose? It seemed like something the bastard would do. What used to be a blank-slate poker face slowly shifted into a nervous expression, his eyebrows slightly knitting together as he listened to Craig's small pep talk.

"Is that supposed to make me feel better," Stan said sarcastically after Craig asked if he was ready. "Would you like to draw it out too, because that's possibly the unsexiest thing you've done tonight is try to coach me through you sticking your fingers up my ass."

It was actually his nerves speaking, but evidently he was feeling strongly about it either way and was going to bitch at every little thing that made him uncomfortable.

**Craig narrows his eyes at Stan's comment. Well, that certainly killed whatever Craig had been feeling uneasy about. Now all he wants to do is shut Stan up; and what better way to do that than by fucking him into the goddamn floor?**

"**Alright," is all he says, and then he pushes in his first finger. He does it slowly, assuming Stan's never had anything in his ass at all, let alone a finger. He might not feel uneasy about it anymore, but he still doesn't want to hurt Stan and make him want to stop. It slides easily with the aid of the lubricant, and he moves it around a bit to try and start with the preparation.**

**Normally he'd ask if the person was okay at this point, but Stan is being a bitch, so he's not going to ask. If Stan isn't okay, he'll fucking say it on his own.**

He wasn't actually ready at all, so when the first lubricated finger slid past the surface, he involuntarily let out a gasp, but it wasn't exactly the worst pain ever. It did however make him feel incredibly nervous, his eyes averted immediately to the wall so he didn't have to look at Craig's face when he had his …well, up there. He was determined not to react like Craig was doing a good job, simply because he was frustrated that after all of that…he was still on bottom. He definitely had bottom denial.

**Feeling that Stan is about ready, he eases in the second finger. His stomach knots, feeling how tight Stan actually is. As much as he'd rather shoot himself than say it out loud, he's **_**really**_** going to enjoy this.**

**He waits a few seconds, allowing Stan time to adjust, before starting to move his fingers again. He slowly works in a scissoring motion as he eases Stan open.**

**Again, he feels compelled to ask how Stan is, but he doesn't. Instead, he takes his other hand –using his knee to keep Stan propped up – and wraps it around Stan's dick again to distract him from the intruding fingers. If he can distract Stan's mind, then Stan won't be as focused on the pain of the next step.**

Keeping his eyes averted, he felt his breathing go to hell as he tried to concentrate on his goal: not to give Craig any satisfaction. But the other was hitting some sort of treasure chest of nerves, and he was tensing up involuntarily, which made his back arch without his consent. This led to pushing against Craig's fingers, which led to a disgruntled moan as he gripped the bed around him, his eyes closing. The pain, it hurt - but then he felt Craig's other hand, and he whimpered slightly.

**Craig bites his lip, watching Stan all but write beneath him. Taking Stan's reactions as a good thing, and not ones of pain, Craig slips in his third and final finger. He wriggles and scissors and crooks them, trying to work Stan as thoroughly as possible. The less it hurt, the less Stan would bitch about it, therefore the more fun Craig will have.**

**He thinks Stan might be ready, but he keeps at it just in case. Maybe it's because Craig wants to be sure, but then again, maybe it's because Craig wants to tease him. He wants to hear Stan say he wants him; hear Stan tell him to fuck him.**

As Craig pressed inside of him, working his fingers in a way he touched every single nerve, Stan was sure of it - he balled up his fists as he failed to not show how much he was enjoying himself. At this point, he was moving at every touch Craig initiated, following the other's movements like a puppet. With a gasp of frustration, he finally managed to get out, "Just- fucking move on!"

**With Stan's demand, Craig withdraws his fingers. He's definitely ready to move on by now, he doesn't need to be fucking told twice. He snatches up the condom and, without caring to even use his hand, rips the foil open with his teeth. He slides it on and lubes himself up.**

**He takes Stan by the hips and hauls him forward, lifting him up properly and positioning himself where he needs to be. His tip presses tauntingly, but he doesn't push inside yet. He really should say something this time, but he doesn't want to ask if Stan is okay. He doesn't really think about it before an automatic response passes his lips, "How much do you want me?"**

**Well, that's the same as asking if Stan is ready, right? Plus it has the added bonus of probably making Stan blush or stutter, so there's that.**

He still feels sexually invigorated even after Craig withdraws his fingers, and even with his eyes closed, he could hear what Craig was doing. His stomach felt like he had swallowed a bed of nails and for the first time, he didn't actually want to run off from the room - even though his face was burning with shame from liking this at all. But god, how much he loved every second of it.

When the other presses against him and then asks him if Stan wanted him, Stan's mouth partially drops open, his brow furrowed as he tried to form a response and finally he growled, "You – fucking - …just fucking _do it_."

**Craig snorts a short laugh at Stan's response, loving how actually desperate it sounded. Stan wants this, and so does Craig. Craig wants it a fucking lot. He might even **_**need**_** it at this point.**

**He pushes forward, slowly moving past that first ring of muscles, and **_**fuck**_**. Stan is a fucking virgin alright, goddamn.**

**He focuses all of his energy on going slow, knowing that Stan must be in a lot of pain. He gets about half way, and stops. His breathing is getting heavy, and he knows that if he tries to move any further in, he'll fucking lose it. He bites onto his lip again, trying to restrain himself.**

Letting out a shaky gasp, he tensed up the minute Craig entered him. By the time he reaches halfway, Stan is gripping the bed sheets with both hands- he really didn't know what he was feeling anymore, but it was pushing him past the brink of ecstasy. His legs moved towards closing Craig's hips in, squeezing against him with neediness, trying to will Craig to get his shit together. Why was he being so goddamn slow?

**When Stan's legs wrap around his waist, he can't take it anymore. He takes it as a sign that Stan is okay, and pushes the rest of the way forward, a little harder.**

**On instinct, he leans forward and lands a harsh kiss on Stan's mouth. It's not meant to be sweet, or anything at all really, it's just meant to **_**feel**_**.**

**With the kiss, he pulls back and then pushes back in. He has to pull his mouth away to let out a groan at the tight friction. Okay, he's done being nice now. He needs to fucking **_**go**_**.**

**He picks up a steady rhythm, not quite too fast because they're only just getting started, and he shifts a few times, trying to fine Stan's hot spot. He listens for the reaction he needs, not being able to see past his clenched-shut eyelids.**

Feeling the other inside of him, his body began moving at the same pace of Craig's, and he couldn't handle it when Craig did hit his hot spot. No thoughts were running through his mind, his entire being currently relied only on physical stimulation; and he couldn't do anything but react innately with a cry of pleasure. His neck craned to the side as he tried to regain some sort of control, but he had lost it awhile back, and really at this point he could only feel intensely alive and…_happy_.

**Craig picks up his pace as he starts to lose himself in the sensation of Stan being around him. Their bodies rock together in time, and with the way Stan keeps crying out, it's all becoming just a little too much for Craig to handle. It's just so…**_**good**_**. Too good. Awesome. There's nothing special about it, it's just sex, but for whatever reason, Craig just feels fucking awesome. That's the only word he can even bring himself to think.**

"**Fuck," he expresses, feeling himself near his end. He holds himself back, though; he always tries to make sure the other person is satisfied before he ends. On that thought, he brings a hand away from Stan's hip and replaces it around Stan's cock, pumping him in time with their thrusts.**

"A-ahh," Stan stuttered - the area Craig had grabbed to stimulate had already been hardened by the activity they were engaging in. With a groan he unfortunately made a mess of the both of them as he arched his back - still moving with Craig, yet trembling because he couldn't control anything any longer.

**Craig rocks his hips a few more times after he feels Stan release, but then he can't take it anymore and he lets go as well. He rides out his orgasm, before slowing and pulling himself out. Then he all but flops over next to Stan, breathing heavily and enjoying the high feeling that comes after a good lay. He absently removes the condom, ties it off, and tosses it in the general direction of his trash can. If he misses, he can just pick it up later; he doesn't care. What he cares about right now is that he's no longer touching someone, and that's not okay with him.**

"**Come over here," he says between his almost regular breathing. He opens an arm and motions for Stan to come and lay against him.**

"Nnnghhh.." He moaned as the other finally left, and he collapsed on the bed in what felt like a heap of nerves. With his breathing still slightly erratic, his eyes were closed as he tried moving his hand to rest on his glistening chest - he felt so…relieved? But the confusion started settling in even as he felt great, like he had just been given a position on the Broncos or something, and he couldn't figure out why he was feeling this way…near Craig. The good feeling was overwhelming however, and he glanced over at Craig when the other invited him over to him. Almost obediently, he moved over slowly and laid next to the other, but kept his eyes off of Craig. His mind was running amuck already, and he was trying to figure out why this was a bad thing when it felt so good. It was amazing at first how simplified his feelings were; but as time went on, he know he would start over thinking everything that had just happened.

**When Stan scooches in, Craig closes his arm around him and pulls him in close against his chest. His breathing is starting to return to normal, and he sighs. It's not a bad sigh, for once, but a content one. As much as he hates Stan, that was actually really fucking sweet. Especially after all that competitive beforehand; somehow that made it… fun. And now he just feels great, with Stan up against him.**

…**wait. No, why is Craig holding Stan? You don't hold someone after a one-time thing; you just do it and leave each other alone afterward. He starts to feel a little awkward at that realization, but he still doesn't want to let Stan go. He's not sure why, but his body won't push Stan away like it should be doing. …and this is definitely after-sex cuddling. Why did Craig tell Stan to come closer? That might have been a bad move.**

Feeling Craig pull him closer, he shut his eyes and tried to think away who he was lying next to. Who he was snuggling up to. Who had just done things that Stan had never experienced or even thought about. For a few minutes he laid there quietly, taking in Craig's scent and idly laying there without thinking about anything in particular. The feeling of moroseness settled in finally, that he had just lost his virginity to Craig Tucker, and now he was enjoying the other's embrace and literally had taken in the other with his five senses full heartedly.

With his eyes closed, he finally muttered quietly, "I love you."

**Craig catches his breath when he hears Stan speak. …what? What did Stan just say! His eyes open with his shock, and he's glad that Stan is far enough down his chest that Stan can't see his face, because it's probably contorted with all kinds of confusion and growing anxiety.**

**He tries to think of something to say, anything, but it feels like several minutes pass before he finally manages to say anything.**

"**Um… **_**what?**_**"**

**It comes out a little hard, and he doesn't want to put Stan off because he's enjoying being close, but **_**what**_**? Why would Stan say something like that? He just keeps Stan close, hoping to avoid the awkwardness of the moment by not moving at all.**

…_**did Stan just say he loves Craig?**_

At first, Stan didn't realize he had uttered anything at all - he thought he was thinking it. But then he realized as the silence returned that he might have actually said it out loud - but he couldn't hear Craig react, so he assumed that the other hadn't heard. Inwardly, a dark part of him still hated Craig - but now it was leaking into a part of him he didn't want Craig to get into, where he actually felt drawn to people and cared for them. But really, had there ever been a line there between those two parts of him at all?

When Craig finally said 'what', Stan frowned as he stayed cuddled to the other, his hand resting on Craig's abdomen. Letting a few minutes pass, he decided that repeating that phrase would make the awkwardness increase, and after all, they both agreed to part ways after this. Even though in that deep dark place, he wanted to say it again in hopes that he never had to leave.

"I hate you."

**Craig bites the inside of his cheek, not sure how he feels when Stan talks again. So does Stan love him or hate him? There's a big difference there.**

**He resists holding Stan tighter, because really, he kind of wants a hug in this moment. He's so incredibly confused, and he doesn't know what to do about it. Normally in a situation like this, he'd just cuddle Stripe and bitch about his problems until Stripe told him the right thing to do. But right now Stan is in his arms, not Stripe, and Stan is the source of his problems, not the solution. So he can't hug him for support.**

"…**oh," he eventually says, his voice a little quiet. He doesn't say anything else, because somehow he doesn't want to say either of those things back to Stan.**

At hearing 'oh', an empty feeling started forming in the center of his chest. Maybe the other thought he heard Stan wrong - which made the feeling more prominent as Stan rubbed his thumb idly against Craig's abdomen, in a calming way. He felt like something was forming in the back of his throat, and he was sure he was going to cry at some point if he didn't move. Why was this so confusing? He loved Wendy, why was Craig doing this to him? That bastard.

Even though he wanted to stay, he finally managed to say, "I'm going to go shower."

**Craig loosens his hold on Stan a bit, showing that he wasn't going to force Stan to stay there. He's not really sure how he feels about anything, and now he just kind of feels numb. What the Hell is even going on? What is this sinking feeling?**

"**Yeah, I'll just… lay here, I guess," he says, not really sure what else to say. His voice is still quiet, and he curses himself internally for it being that way. Why can't he just speak normally?**

**He'd actually just been about to shower, but Stan beat him to saying it. He supposes he can wait for a shower. He needs a moment to think anyway. Or maybe he needs to not think at all. Thinking might just make things a lot worse.**

…**why didn't he tell Stan to fuck off as soon as he'd said… that? Why didn't he criticize him for it? …or tell him he doesn't feel the same?**

**He doesn't. He doesn't feel the same. But… he can't say that out loud. For whatever reason, he doesn't want to crush Stan. At some point during the day, Craig has come to terms with the fact that he might like Stan. So maybe that's why he didn't turn him away.**

Slowly moving off of the bed, Stan sat at the edge, slightly slumped over like he was suffering from rejection. He had kind of hoped that Craig would do something like tell him he was an asshole for saying I love you, and then I hate you right after; or at least acknowledge Stan's confusing comments somehow. But how would the other even know the first one was far more true than the second? Glancing over his shoulder, he looked at Craig with a frown, remembering him saying something about disliking being rejected. Was he feeling the same way?

He finally moved backwards, sliding back onto the bed. Crawling back towards Craig, he laid back down next to Craig and then reached out with his left hand to gently move Craig's face towards him so he could look him in the eyes.

"We're going back to Wendy and Kenny…right."

It was almost as if Stan had to reassure himself that their goal was still being sought after by both parties. Somehow, he doubted it even himself, and now was looking for Craig to either rescue the mission or completely abandon it.

**Craig just kind of lays there when Stan moves away from him. He kind of feels like curling into a ball, but he doesn't. No, he just lays still, trying to avoid his own thoughts.**

**When Stan comes back to lay next to him, and even turns Craig's head to force him to look Stan in the eye, Craig doesn't really know what to do. He just wants Stan to go take his shower so Craig can forget he even exists for a few minutes.**

**He opens his mouth to reply to Stan, but nothing comes out. After a few seconds, he manages to form a complete thought. "…yeah. This was just to release the tension. …wasn't it?"**

**That last question all but added itself to his sentence, and Craig hates how unsure the whole thing even sounded. Of course he's going back to Kenny. He has to. He wants to.**

**This thing with Stan… didn't mean anything. It wasn't supposed to.**

Staring into Craig's eyes, studying his face, Stan kept his hand hovering for a moment and then put it down on the bed between them. At Craig's question, he averted his eyes for a good minute as he thought. Did he want it to mean more? He found himself realizing the answer was yes, and it was scaring him. Was it possible to love more than one person?

Looking back at Craig, he said simply, "…yeah." But he also kept his eyes locked on the other's, as if he were hoping to spark an argument.

**Craig maintains Stan's eye contact and doesn't reply to Stan's agreement. He doesn't say anything for quite a while, because staring at Stan is starting to make him feel uneasy again. He doesn't like this at all. He can't like Stan; not while he's with Kenny, at least. That makes the cheating instantly about ten times worse, and he already feels like shit about it because it's the first time he's ever cheated.**

**He eventually gets too uncomfortable staring into Stan's eyes like that, but he can't be the one to look away first, so instead he says, "You should go take your shower." He does his best to say it in his normal voice, his flat one, the one without emotion, because this whole thing where Craig is speaking softly isn't okay. Maybe if he speaks normally, things won't feel so weird.**

He was sort of taken aback by Craig's sheer refusal to even admit he might want more. Stan didn't look away; that couldn't just be it, could it? They had something amazing, and then they go back to Wendy and Kenny like it didn't matter? He inwardly felt turmoil; it was supposed to suck. It wasn't supposed to go well. Maybe if he had known what was actually involved he wouldn't have thought he would be a bad lay, but it was done now, and he really hated the fact Craig was being obstinate.

Not blinking, he gazed at the other with icy blue eyes and then said rather casually, "And you should take one with me."

**Craig raises an eyebrow at Stan's unexpected response. So they're back to challenging dick mode, are they? Well at least the awkward moment is gone. He hopes.**

"**What," he starts, giving Stan a little smirk to show he's still normal. "Haven't had enough of me yet?" he asks.**

**After a few seconds, he realizes it's a good thing that they're alone. What with all of Stan's moaning and the fact that they're about to walk through the house and into the bathroom together. "You know, it's a really good thing no one's here right now," he comments, though he's not really sure why he said it out loud. Can't they just skip conversation and get to the shower? …wait, why is Craig eager? No, they can talk as much as they fucking want beforehand.**

**He sits up, despite his thoughts. He's starting to feel a little gross and sticky, and he really would like to get in the shower. He glances at his sheets, stained, and is a little irritated that he'll have to do the laundry before he's allowed to go to bed for the night.**

"No. Not nearly enough," Stan said with a hint of sarcasm, but he stared at the other with an unsettling forward gaze. If Craig wanted to ignore the fact he loved Stan, then Stan would make this day harder than hell to forget. He ignores Craig's remark about the house being empty, and sits up himself and pulled himself off the bed.

Without really so much as casting a sideways glance at Craig, he walked past the bed and out the door to the stairwell, heading towards the bathroom. Once there, he studied the tub for a moment and then turned on the shower head.

**Craig just watches Stan go. After a second he heaves a sigh and gets off the bed himself. He checks to see if he made his trash can shot earlier, and somehow he managed to actually do it, so he turns his attention to his sheets instead. He gathers up all his bedding, not really caring to be neat about it because he just wants to throw it in the laundry and get in the shower.**

**He carries the bedding down the stairs and into the laundry room where he tosses it in, starting the washing machine. He makes his way to the bathroom – somehow having done all that in about a minute's time – and shuts the door behind him.**

**He looks at Stan and says, "If you weren't serious, then get the fuck out because I'm first."**

Stan was standing by the shower, and simply stared at Craig. Instead of actually acknowledging that the other had walked in, he pulled back the curtains and then stepped inside, and then shut them again. If Craig couldn't take a hint, then why should he have to spell it out for him? Why would he have waited, anyways? The water was warm enough now after running a moment, and he let it fall on his face as he wondered if Craig would get pissed off at his 'cold shoulder'. Really, he just wanted the bastard pissed off enough to actually stop being such a bitch.

**Taking Stan's silent entry into the shower as a 'no, I'm staying' and not a 'fuck you,' Craig just approaches the shower as well and steps in on the side opposite the shower head.**

**He stands there for a second, watching the water beat over Stan's skin.**

**Okay, now he has to admit, even if he couldn't before, Stan looks damn good without his clothes on. And he looks even better standing there in Craig's shower with water running down his body like that. He stares for a couple more seconds, a little mortified with himself for checking Stan out, before he decides to say something.**

"**Need help?" he asks, moving just a little closer to Stan instead of Standing way back.**

Stan heard the shower curtain slide, and then he heard it shut. Really, he wasn't paying attention to Craig - purposely giving him a bit of attitude because he was a little confused as to where they stood, and at the same time, angry at him for making him care about it.

He looked towards the shower shelf, and then picked up the bar of soap there and held it out to Craig. He stared at the other, wondering what he had been doing for the time that he hadn't spoken, but had stood in the shower.

**Craig takes the soap from Stan, returning the stare. He starts to lather the bar between his hands, but then he drops it. He actually fucking drops it. He has never in his life dropped soap, and of course the first time it had to happen was in the shower with Stan fucking Marsh. How fucking convenient is that? Maybe he can blow it off as a non-accident. Like he did it on purpose.**

…**for some reason. Why the Hell would he drop it on purpose? He decides not to think about it, and just looks back up at Stan and says, "Oops." It's his usual monotone voice, kind of sarcastic, so that he's sure it won't actually sound accidental. He doesn't make any moves to pick it up, though, because maybe they won't even need it.**

"…oh. My god." Stan mused as he heard the soap plunk against the tub, and he tried not to smile too wide as he thought of the implications of what dropping the soap meant…and then applied those to Tucker. Somehow, it was still amusing. A little less so that he wasn't actually going to get raped, of course, because Stan didn't want that to happen to Craig - but it was still amusing that he did it now, of all times. Did he do it on purpose?

Looking down at the soap, he spotted it near Craig's foot. Then he looked at the other with a blank gaze, and then he bent down. It wasn't as if they were even a foot apart- they were pretty close as it was because of the size of the tub. But when he went down to retrieve the soap, he realized he was almost …eye to thing.

Glancing up at Craig from an angle that was probably a little bit arousing; he slowly lowered himself to his knees and then ran a slippery hand up Craig's thigh, still staring at him with one eyebrow raised as his hand snaked around the other's hip to his ass.

**Craig watches Stan descend to the soap, a little surprised that he was actually going to pick it up at all. When Stan pauses, Craig can feel his heart rate pick up a bit. What is Stan doing? Is Stan getting on his knees? He **_**is**_**.**

**Craig continues to stare down at Stan, loving the way he looks from this angle. He feels Stan's hand sliding easily up his thigh and doesn't even flinch when it lands on his ass. Stan can touch him wherever he fucking pleases if Stan is about to do what Craig is now expecting.**

**He doesn't say anything, but he's definitely not about to fucking turn it down. He brings a hand up and runs it through Stan's wet hair, encouraging Stan by massaging his fingertips against Stan's scalp lightly.**

The corner of his mouth turned upwards in a half smile, but inside he felt nervous and apprehensive about doing what he had intended doing when he got on his knees. He actually considered for a split second getting up and leaving the shower, but the feeling of Craig's fingers on his scalp was an unexpected addition, and he looked at Craig with a dazed look in his eyes. The water was still running down his back and on his hair- now it hit Craig's abdomen, trailing downwards.

Moving his free hand to Craig's hardened part, he ran his fingers delicately underneath, feeling the underside. Hesitantly, he moved closer, putting the flat of his tongue partway underneath and ran it to the tip. Pulling away, he innocently glanced upwards at Craig as if the other would instruct him.

**Craig's eyes fall shut and he tries not to react too strongly at the first touch, but he has to bite down a groan when Stan actually licks him. He tightens his hand in Stan's hair a bit on instinct, and waits for Stan to continue.**

**When Stan doesn't, he opens his eyes again and looks back down at him. When their eyes connect, Craig doesn't even know what to do. Is he supposed to tell Stan what to do or something? Didn't Stan say he didn't know how to do this earlier?**

**If nothing else, he should warn Stan about his tendency to thrust forward. He'd be pissed if Stan puked on him.**

"**A word of warning, I'd hold me down if I were you," he says, hoping Stan will catch his drift and hold him against the wall or something. Other than that, he really doesn't have any other advice.**

His eyes narrowed when Craig gave him a warning instead of advice. What the hell did that even mean, anyways? He took Craig's warning seriously however, and moved the other against the wall of the shower by placing both hands on either of Craig's hips. It occurred to Stan that he was growing annoyed with the other- it would figure that Craig would be a major ass when he knew Stan was new to everything. Keeping both hands on Craig's hips, he moved to place Craig in his mouth, using his tongue around the head. His eyes were closed now, he really didn't want to keep his eyes open for this.

**Craig allows Stan to back him against the wall, considering he's the one that told Stan to do it. He stops himself from saying anything when Stan presses his hands into Craig's hips, but dear God, that's going to make this so much better. He has no idea why his hips are sensitive, but he loves it.**

"_**Fuck**_**," he mutters, clamping his eyes shut when Stan actually takes him in. He moves his other hand to join the first in Stan's hair but does his best to not pull on it. No, he has to remember that Stan is new at this and he wouldn't know what to do if Craig did something like that. Why does Craig have to get all the firsts? He has to be too **_**nice**_** when it's someone's first.**

Maneuvering himself back and forth, he pressed his lips down as much as possible without using his teeth. His tongue moved around but he tried to not think what he actually was doing because he didn't want to freak himself out, so it was moving according to what he thought He would like. He pressed his thumbs roughly into Craig's hips as he used him for support.

**Craig tightens his grip in Stan's hair when he presses his thumbs into Craig's hips. It's a damn good thing Stan is holding him back, because he has a feeling Stan wouldn't appreciate his bodily reactions very much.**

**He does his best to keep from making noise, but it's surprisingly hard to do with Stan's mouth on him. His little groans and '**_**mmm**_**'s echo with the tile in the bathroom, and he can't even feel ashamed of it because holy shit. Somehow Stan is good at this, even if he's claiming to not know what he's doing. Maybe he's done it on Wendy or something, and it's like transfer of skills.**

**No, okay, don't think about Wendy.**

**After another few hard sucks, he's not sure how much longer he'll last. "I'm…" he tries to say. "I'm gonna come," he manages to warn. He doesn't think Stan will appreciate taking it in the mouth very much.**

If he could have said something, Stan would have probably said 'congratulations' sarcastically, but it came out as a hum as he continued to work Craig. He really didn't care what the other did at this point. With his hands, he pushed down on the other's hips to effectively hold him back if he tried doing anything.

**Surprised when Stan holds him down harder instead of pulling away, Craig is only able to hold out for another maybe 10 seconds. He shudders with his release and tries to keep his knees from giving out on the porcelain tub floor. After a few shaky seconds, he lets his hands loosen in Stan's hair to give the other an opportunity to stand. Really, he just wants Stan to stand up so Craig can push him against a wall and kiss the fuck out of him, but he's not about to ask for that.**

Feeling the other release, Stan simply spit out the aftermath on the bottom of the tub and wiped his mouth awkwardly with his hand. Reaching over, he grabbed the bar of soap and stood to his feet, and picked up Craig's hand and put the soap in it. Staring at him for a moment, he turned and faced the shower head as he ran his hands through his hair, even though his hair was pretty damn wet from having the water run on it the entire time he was down on Craig.

**Craig gives a half shocked laugh when all Stan does upon standing is hand him the soap and turn back around. Stan is being such a little bitch. Well, Craig can be a bitch, too.**

**He lathers his hands with the soap before setting it back on the shower shelf. He steps forward and presses himself against Stan's back, his chin resting on Stan's shoulder and his arms sneaking around Stan's waist. "That's it? You're not even going to kiss me after that?" he asks, letting his soapy hands roam tantalizingly down Stan's abdomen. He rubs small circles with his palms flat, acting like he's merely helping to wash Stan instead of about to molest him.**

**He turns his face towards Stan's neck and presses his lips against it, letting them linger there in the heat of Stan's jugular vein.**

Slightly aroused from the way Craig was rubbing his hands, he cast a downwards glance at Craig's hands and then looked towards the shelf, where the soap was. He picked it up and lathered up his hands, feeling Craig's face nestled into his neck. It felt nice having the other behind him in an awkward standing hug. He applied the suds to his arms and then his chest, working around Craig's embrace - then he moved to wash his lower half, slightly bending down to press against Craig. In actuality, he just wanted to get clean - if Craig wanted to cop some feels in the process, then why not.

**What the fuck, why is Stan just blowing him off now? Craig doesn't even say anything when Stan bends forward, resulting in Stan pushing his ass against Craig's groin, because something tells Craig that Stan didn't even do it on purpose.**

**With a furrowed brow, he keeps his face nestled in the crook of Stan's neck. He starts leaving warm kisses along the column of Stan's neck. Really, he'd like to leave Stan a few more hickies, but he figures he's given Stan enough to need to cover up already.**

**He moves his hands down more, determined to get Stan to quit ignoring him. Why? He's not sure. But he knows he's not enjoying this cold shoulder. He takes a hold of Stan in both hands, the shaft in one and Stan's balls in the other. He gives Stan a few soft pumps before finally deciding to say something between his neck kisses.**

"**Even if you're being an insufferable bitch, thank you for the head. It was nice."**

**Maybe by pretending to be nicer, Stan will quit with this whole I-don't-care-about-anything act.**

Stan groaned a bit as the other toyed with him, and he moved to put his hand on Craig's arms. Moving them away gently, with a bit of force so he would let go of him, he grabbed the soap and lathered it up again and replaced it on the shelf. Then he turned and started lathering Craig's chest, and then looked at him in the eyes as he said, "I'm not ignoring you, I'm washing before the damn hot water runs out." He really didn't want to spend the next hour in the shower and end up with a cold one to clean up in because they spent the warm water phase making out.

**Craig lets Stan push his hands away and resists the frown that threatens his features. At Stan's comment though, he just scoffs. "What so you can shower **_**before**_** you get made a mess of?" he asks.**

**He shocks himself a bit at actually having said that out loud. Did he just imply that he and Stan weren't done messing around? He tries to play it off by keeping his face impassive and letting Stan continue to wash him.**

**This really isn't good, the fact that Craig doesn't want to stop what they've been doing all day. They've opened a worm hole, and now that he's had a taste of Stan, he's going to want to keep coming back. He's pretty sure Stan is feeling the same way, considering what Stan'd said earlier.**

…**did Stan mean that? Even if he'd repealed the statement a second later? He does his best to not show what he's thinking on his face.**

He moves his hands slowly down Craig, caressing every inch of him with the suds as he moved his body closer. When he reached Craig's lower half, he ran his hand down his manhood, and then all the way underneath gently, bending slightly to reach to the other's ass. Then he removed his hand and rubbed Craig's thighs, tracing down to the back of his knees and then his calves. He acted as if he hadn't heard Craig's comment, and he busied himself with circling around the other and then lightly prompting him to step forward into the stream of water as he ran his palms in circles around Craig's shoulders, then down to his lower back and his ass.

Leaving his sudsy hands on the other's ass, he leaned forwards and whispered into Craig's ear, "Ever had sex in the kitchen? Might as well cover the whole house." He was actually joking, but it was fun to get a rise out of the other and gauge his reactions to sexually fueled comments.

**Craig doesn't speak anymore as Stan continues to wash him. He's too lost in his own thoughts. He doesn't even question it when he's moved into the stream of water. This let's-have-sex this was already going to mess him up, regardless of whatever else happened, but now this I-love-you thing… Craig doesn't even know what to do.**

**He's brought out of his thoughts when he hears Stan talk. He thinks about it for a second, considering if he should even say anything. Eventually he decides that no, he shouldn't touch Stan anymore. That would be a terrible idea, and it would only make Craig want to keep doing it.**

"**As appealing as that might sound," he starts, trying to think of a valid reason to turn Stan down, because why the Hell not do it? "I think Ruby should be coming home from school soon, and I don't want her to walk in on something like that."**

**His voice is a little empty, but he doesn't really notice because he's still caught up in his thoughts. What the fucking Hell does all of this mean?**

"Okay," Stan said as he slipped his hands off of Craig's ass, and then turned the other around so the water rinsed off his back as well - and then rinsed the other's hair, and applied shampoo from the shelf. After he had done Craig's hair, he quickly did his own, which took less than a minute because he really didn't use that much soap.

With that, he climbed out of the shower and opened the cupboards until he found the one with the towels, and grabbed one for him and Craig. Reaching in the shower, he turned off the faucet and shoved a towel roughly at Craig. It wasn't really meant to be done meanly even if it might have come off that way - Stan was starting to grow bitter at the thought that he didn't want to leave Craig's house, because it meant they couldn't do anything anymore. And the thought of him enjoy Craig that much really scared him.

"Do you have clothes I can wear?" He asked, knowing perfectly well that Craig's pants would probably be too long for him, but he really didn't want to wear any clothes they had worn earlier.

**Craig just stands there, waiting for Stan to finish washing them. He feels like he's being abnormally quiet, but then again, he normally doesn't talk that much anyway, so maybe he's just lingering in the weirdness of his thoughts. He really doesn't know what to make of any of this; he doesn't know if it's going to be possible to ignore from this point on.**

**When Stan turns off the water and hands him a towel, he just takes it and begins drying himself off. When he's done, he steps out of the tub and wraps his towel around his waist.**

"**Yeah," is his only response to Stan's question, because he doesn't really put much though into it. It's just clothes.**

**He exits the bathroom and remembers that his sheets are in the wash. He goes to transfer them to the dryer and then heads back up to his room. He assumes Stan is following him, so he doesn't look to see.**

**When he gets up there, he shuffles through his clean clothes to try and find something to wear. He's displeased to find that most of his clothes are in the dirty laundry. He pulls on a pair of night pants, not bothering to put on normal clothes again because it's not like he's going to go anywhere today. He pulls out a pair of sweat pants and tosses them at Stan before continuing his search for tops. He somehow has **_**none**_** left; how the Hell did he fall that behind on laundry?**

**He doesn't much care that he's shirtless, because he just doesn't, but he figures Stan will want something to wear. He goes over to his dirty laundry basket and rifles through it. Eventually he comes up with a Skillet t-shirt. He holds it out to Stan, saying, "It's not clean, but I only wore it for like three hours one day if you want it."**

Wrapping his towel around his waist after he dries his hair, leaving it a spiked mess- Stan walked out after Craig and followed him as he watched the other look through the wash. Lazily trailing after Craig, he stopped when the other started shifting through his clothes, and grabbed the pants and pulled them on when Craig threw them at him. They were dragging a bit on the floor, but he didn't really care - his clothes were normally a bit baggy when he sat at home in them.

He glanced at the t-shirt, and decided to take it. He refrained from smelling it instinctively, as if he were going to decide based on how clean it smelled if he would wear it or not. Right now, if it smelled like Craig, he'd probably put it on anyways. Tugging it over his head, he put the towel over his shoulder and then glanced down at the shirt again, noticing it said Skillet on it.

"The secret side of me, I never let you see - I keep it caged but I can't control it, so stay away from me, the beast is ugly - I feel the rage and I just can't hold it," He sang quietly as he turned to climb onto the bare mattress, and then curled up into a ball as he continued on, now muttering the lyrics. "It's scratchin' on the walls, in the closet in the halls - it comes awake and I can't control it, hidin' under the bed, in my body in my head - why won't somebody come and save me from this - make it end. I feel it deep within, it's just beneath the skin, I must confess that I feel like a monster.."

**Craig turns after Stan takes the shirt and goes to his closet. He pulls down a few extra blankets for them to lay on or under or something. When he hears Stan start to sing again, he can't help but wonder why Stan keeps doing that. It doesn't really bother Craig, but he's never been around someone who just randomly sings just for the Hell of it.**

**He sets the three blankets on the bed. One was intended for laying on, and the other two… honestly, Craig wants to hold Stan again, but he doesn't **_**want **_**to want to hold Stan. He'd grabbed the third blanket in hopes that Stan would take one and lay on his own instead of under Craig's with him.**

**He spreads the first one out and lays down on it, leaving enough bunched between him and Stan that Stan could pull it underneath him and lay on it as well. He pulls up one of the blankets and pulls it around his shoulders and closing his eyes with a sigh. Really, he doesn't even know what to do anymore.**

He quieted down after awhile, and then glanced over his shoulder at Craig once the other was on the bed. Scooting over to him, he forced himself into a spooning position with Craig, whether the other liked it or not. Letting the silence fall, he heard Stripe shuffling again, and the hum of the air conditioning. Within a few minutes he had fallen asleep.

After five hours had gone by, he woke up by the sound of his phone receiving texts. He got up and looked around, and then found his pants on the other side of the bed. Reaching down and grabbing it, he looekd at the messages he had from Kenny - and then he heard Craig's phone go off as well. Well, damnit.

He crawled over to Craig and shoved him.

"Dude, wake up. Kenny's probably messaging you." He didn't want to tell Craig what he was saying - receiving a text that said 'you can have him' pretty much, he knew what Craig was getting was probably ten times worse.

**Craig unfortunately can't say he's upset when Stan spoons up against him. He just wraps his arm around Stan's middle and holds him snug against himself. It hurts, because he wants Stan to stay there. He can't want Stan to stay there. He hates Stan. And he's with Kenny. After Stan leaves today, he can't ever come back.**

**Letting his somewhat depressing thoughts make him fall sleepy, it doesn't take him long to fall asleep. He just hopes he doesn't get used to falling asleep with Stan in his arms, because he won't be able to do it anymore without Stan there if he does.**

**He wakes some amount of time later to Stan telling him to get up. He sits up and groans, trying to rub the sleep out of his eyes. After a moment, he searches for his phone and eventually finds it on the floor next to his bed. Stan was right, he has a message from Kenny.**

After thirty minutes of playing texting tag with both Kenny and Kyle, he had a distinct frown on his face as he let out a large sigh. He had been going between rubbing his neck nervously as he waited for responses, angrily typing, sighing, cringing, frowning - looking worried, grumbling cusses, and last but not least, he had rolled his eyes once or twice. Now he took a moment to look up at Craig as he sat on the bed across from him, and wondered what Kenny was telling him. Should he mention that Kyle was going to be with Kenny tonight? Did Kenny threaten to kill himself to Craig, too?

**Craig gets progressively more and more worried as Kenny continues to IM him. **_**Kenny is breaking up with him**_**. That's all he can think. And it's making him incredibly fucking upset. He tries to not let it show, but he doesn't know if it's working. He really does like Kenny, a lot, but he's just been so shitty to Kenny. He's actually kind of surprised Kenny didn't try breaking up with him sooner than this…**

…**and then Kenny starts that he's going to kill himself. Craig had only just recently learned that Kenny dies all the time, but he hasn't ever encountered it personally. Somehow knowing that Kenny will come back after death doesn't make the fact that he's going to die any less scary. It's scaring him. He wants to go over there. He wants to stop Kenny, tell him he's sorry, and make sure he's okay. He doesn't want Kenny to fucking kill himself!**

**But this point he's visibly shaken. He's frowning and biting his lip, and even trembling a little. He's never had to fear for someone's life before; especially not because of something he'd done. **_**He **_**did this to Kenny. **_**He's **_**the reason Kenny is going to die. He's the cause of all of this, and Kenny is going to **_**die**_**.**

Noticing how shaken Craig was, Stan edged over to the other and put his arm around Craig's shoulder as he sat next to him. He rubbed the other's shoulder, trying to coax him back into a better place as he said quietly, "I told Kyle to go over there, don't worry about it. Kyle will stop him from doing something stupid, I know it." With a slight frown, he put his head on Craig's other shoulder, wanting to give the other a bear hug but didn't want to interrupt him if he was trying to text to Kenny still.

**Craig actually leans into Stan, not knowing what else to do. He just lets Stan wrap an arm around him and doesn't say anything for a long moment.**

**Eventually he comes up with something to say. Mainly because he needs to get it out; he can't keep just thinking it anymore. It needs to be said.**

"**I'm the one doing this to him. He's fucking suicidal because I can't stop thinking about you. Why can't I stop?"**

**The whole thing is quiet, but that last question is even quieter, and he's not sure if Stan will even be able to hear it. He sinks in on himself a little, bringing his knees up and he falls more into Stan's embrace. Why does everything have to suck so fucking hard?**

Moving to sit in a cross-legged position, Stan let Craig fall on him and then moved his other arm to touch Craig's hand. The arm that was wrapped around him first he now moved to run his fingers through Craig's hair, and he frowned as he heard Craig say he couldn't stop thinking about him. It was pretty quiet, and Stan was used to picking up the smallest noises right before he fell asleep; it was a trait that carried on throughout the day unless he was tuning people out on purpose. And right now, he didn't want to tune Craig out. He wanted to hug him as close as possible, knowing how traumatizing it was when Kenny threatened something like that.

"Kyle won't let him do anything.." He tried comforting the other, and then paused, thinking about the last part of the question. "Everything will go back to normal Craig…" But really, would it? He remembered his comment earlier - the bipolar, 'I love you', and then 'I hate you' less than a few minutes after. It wouldn't go back to normal.

"Look…we're ending this now. But if you ever need someone..you know, I can always…" He wanted to say he would always be there, just secretly, so no one would know they still hung out.

"I'm here."

**Craig lets Stan shift and settles into Stan's chest. It's not the first time he's ever let someone hold him, but it's definitely not a common occurrence. He doesn't ever let himself get weak enough to **_**need**_** held. And he appreciates the fact that Stan is playing with his hair, because that always makes him feel better. Just like in the locker room.**

**Craig closes his eyes and huddles into himself more, coming in closer to Stan. He shouldn't. Stan is the last person he should be getting comfort from right now, because Kenny might not be a part of Craig's life anymore. And, as much as Craig hates to admit it, he likes Stan. A lot. And Stan being the only one around after something like this won't make matters any better.**

"**You know it's not going to stop," is all he says, sounding only about half as broken as he's feeling. He doesn't bother responding to any of the rest of it, because he either doesn't want to talk about it, or doesn't want to talk about it **_**with Stan**_**.**

"…what do you mean?" Inside, he knew what it meant - Craig was implying they would never stop testing each other, finding each other to bother one another, and they would never stop wanting to do these things. It meant something that Stan didn't want to acknowledge though, and he had been ignoring it for the most part last night and today, even after what happened.

Petting Craig's hair, he nuzzled the other's head with his nose, tempted to plant a kiss in there. The thought made his stomach churn.

"…maybe it would be better if we just thought…it wouldn't really work, you know. We're always fighting." They weren't now though, but Stan was trying to convince himself and Craig that they wouldn't work out - not convince himself that they would be perfect for one another because they knew how to calm the other one down, and not to mention how to comfort one another. "And we really don't like each other, it's just…we've always hated each other. Really..I don't think I hate you much anymore, I just hate the way you make me feel.."

He paused, realizing he was failing to make this sound like they were going to go back to normal and everything would be okay.

"…goddamnit."

**Craig sighs, about ready to just give up on everything and everyone. He doesn't respond to Stan's rambling right away, because it doesn't even makes sense. It actually proves the opposite of the point they're trying to make to themselves.**

**He doesn't fight it when Stan nuzzles into his head either, because he's past denying that he wants Stan to be close. Well, right now he is. Later, he'll probably go back to hating Stan openly. Just maybe not as much inwardly.**

"**What am I supposed to do if Kenny kills himself?" he asks quietly, still shaken over the face that he's the cause of it. "What am I supposed to do if he and I are actually over?" he asks as an afterthought. It probably isn't the best thing to be asking Stan, of all people, but he says it anyway.**

**Even if he and Kenny are over, he wouldn't let himself be with Stan. Besides, Stan would still have Wendy.**

"He'll get over it." Stan said, though it wasn't exactly specified which comment he had replied with that answer to. Still resting close to Craig, he stared off with a blank expression on his face. Currently he was lost in the thought what if both of them lost Wendy and Kenny respectively; what would happen then? Would they ever…? No, that wouldn't happen. Stan would probably kill himself before openly admitting he was attached in any way to Craig. The residue from their many fights and arguments still lingered in his conscious and was affecting his judgment.

"He'll be back even if he dies, believe me. But I'm pissed he uses this crap like blackmail..he said every time I got drunk he'd kill himself so I'd quit. So don't be upset Craig, it's just his way of venting. ..and I'm sure you won't break up."

"**That's it?" Craig asks, not sure if he's angry or still just incredibly depressed. "**_**He'll get over it?**_**" he asks again, clearly upset. How can it just be that easy? Is that what everyone says when Kenny dies?**

**He's extremely conflicted at the moment. He wants nothing more than to rip himself away from Stan and punch him in the face for saying **_**he'll get over it**_**. But at the same time, he's even more upset now, and he needs someone to be close even more that he did before. Why the fuck is Stan here of all people? He just makes everything harder.**

**He doesn't say anything for several minutes, resisting yelling at Stan for saying something so incredibly fucking stupid. Eventually he decides to respond to Stan's later comment. "He**_**should**_** break up with me. I'm fucking terrible. I just spent all day fucking around with you, and now I'm supposed to go back to him and pretend it didn't happen. **_**Fuck!**_**"**

**He doesn't even know what he's saying anymore and he doesn't know what he wants at all. He really needs to just sit alone in a corner and smoke some fucking weed and forget he has problems for an hour. Maybe blast some metal music while he's at it.**

Noticing Craig becoming upset, Stan pursed his lips as he tried to think of a better response. Maybe his first one was a bit pissy, because he was indeed pissed at Kenny. But he knew he cared more about Kenny then to say something as harsh as, 'he'll get over it', like death was a cold. Maybe minimizing the severity of death wasn't what Craig needed right now.

He reached up with his head and brushed the hair back on his head, and then planted a kiss on top of Craig's head.

"Sorry," He whispered, and then said, "It's more serious than that, I shouldn't have said it that way..but Kenny comes back. Just…it's upsetting, but..I don't like…"

He put his chin on top of Craig's head. "I don't like hearing you so upset."

**Craig narrows his eyes at hearing Stan's last comment. He's getting a little tired of hearing Stan make statements like that, and right now, Craig really can't handle it.**

**He sits up straighter and turns to look at Stan. They're really close, considering Stan's arm is still around him, but he can't be bothered to care at the moment.**

"**What exactly do you want from me? What was your goal in getting me to sleep with you? You **_**knew**_** it wouldn't make things go away. So what do you want?"**

**He's extremely angry, mainly because of his confusion, but also because of his panic over Kenny potentially dying. His words don't quite sound angry though. More like… hurt, almost. Is Stan leading him on on purpose because he knows they'll never be able to actually be together?**

Surprised that Craig actually shifted to sitting up, Stan stared at him for a minute. Then he looked down, and started to move backwards to climb off the mattress, but had to stop and pull off a blanket that had wrapped around his foot when he moved.

Growing frustrated with having difficulties trying to remove himself from the situation, he gave up and glared off towards the wall.

"I don't want anything from you." Inwardly, he wondered if all he wanted was Craig himself, but he didn't say it.

"I'm just going to go home, okay."

**Craig just stares at Stan for a second as he tries to pull away. After Stan says he's going to go home, Craig just lays back down under his blankets, curling in on himself because he's still hurt. He's hurt about everything.**

"**Yeah okay, go home, fuck you anyways," he says, tugging his blankets tight over his neck so that he's completely consumed by the blanket. He just wishes he could forget everything. Start over. No relationships, no sexual drama; just him and Clyde and Token, being bros. Things were so much easier back then.**

**He can feel the lump in the back of his throat, but he refuses to acknowledge that it's there. **_**Kenny might die tonight.**_** And where is Craig? Laying in bed after fucking Kenny's best friend all day.**

"Dude..you know what? Fuck you, Craig." Stan scoffed as he pulled the blankets off finally, freeing himself from them. Pushing himself off the bed, he tried to not be bothered by what just happened - going from cuddling to insults never was an easy shift. Slightly shaking, he stood up and leaned down to grab his shirt off the floor, and his phone- and then he circled the bed to grab his pants and underwear.

"Fuck you. You think you're the first one who's made Kenny suicidal? You don't think I give a shit or something? Fuck you. I care about Kenny, and he's done this to me too, I was trying to comfort you. Apparently it's all about fucking you, right Tucker. You're not the only one who fucked up. Sorry for inconveniencing you with giving a shit about your feelings. Not like you ever cared for mine, anyways. I didn't want a goddamn thing from you. I just wanted to be with you. But fuck you."

He turned and started to walk out of the room, his arms full of clothes.

**Craig doesn't even move as Stan all but flees from his bed. Yeah, what the fuck ever…**

"**You don't give a shit about my feelings; otherwise you would have fucking stayed away when I asked. And now look what happened." He pauses, realizing he'd been about to say something he'd probably regret later. No, they don't like each other after today. They're even fighting now. Good.**

"**You don't want to be with me anyway, you're with Wendy, so stop fucking confusing me."**

**He realizes that probably wasn't the best thing to say either, and he curses himself silently.**

"**Just get the fuck out so I can deal with this on my own…" He's really fucking upset, and if Stan is going to be a dick, then he doesn't want him around. Craig's never had to deal with someone killing themselves before, but apparently Stan can't be fucking bothered to remember what it was like the first time. So fuck him.**

Stan opened the door after sending one more pointed glare at Craig, but finds the words aren't there. So he slams the door shut, hoping he didn't bother Stripe too much - well, they made more noise earlier in the day and the guinea pig didn't mind, so he doubted a door slamming would.

He left the house with his clothes in his arms, hoping Ruby wouldn't see him fleeing.

**Craig curls in on himself even more when the door slams. Well that's fucking great. Now Kenny is breaking up with him and trying to kill himself, and he still doesn't know how he feels about Stan, and the fucker just left him when he was in this much fucking pain. Well fine. Fuck everyone. He'll just lay in his bed and not get back out until all of this fucking shit passes.**


	12. 05 18 2012

05.18.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh:** - hi.

**Stan Marsh:** -i'm breaking up with wendy tomorrow

**Craig Tucker:** -What.

**Stan Marsh:** - breaking up with wendy. tomorrow.

**Craig Tucker:** -Why the fuck are you going to do that.

**Stan Marsh:** - because i'm a horrible human being who deserves to be alone forever.

**Craig Tucker:** -True.

**Stan Marsh:** - yep. goign to hell

**Craig Tucker:** -Have fun with that; I'll be continuing to ignore you for the rest of my existance. Bye.

**Stan Marsh:** - cool. have fun with that„ bitch. don't need you anyways.

**Stan Marsh:** - whats up.

**Stan Marsh:** - i still have yourshirt

**Stan Marsh:** - i'm keeping it

**Stan Marsh:** - and the pants

**Stan Marsh:** - if there was afire

**Stan Marsh:** - i'd probably grab melow and my dog and that shirt

**Craig Tucker:** -Are you trying to tell me that you're keeping my shit in the hopes that you'll have a house fire so that it will burn? Fucking weak, dude.

**Stan Marsh:** - no jfc you dont read

**Stan Marsh:** - i'm saying its going with me out the door

**Stan Marsh:** - fuck dont burn my guinea pig

**Craig Tucker:** -Why would you do that? And what about burning guinea pigs?

**Stan Marsh:** - fuck you i'm keeping the shirt its mine

**Stan Marsh:** - youre never seeing it again

**Stan Marsh:** - i'm gonna put it on

**Stan Marsh:** -every night and cuddle mellow in it

**Stan Marsh:** - and listen to fucking creed or some shit

**Craig Tucker:** -What the fuck is wrong with you? You're acting like a fucking love-drunk school girl, knock it off

**Stan Marsh:** - i'm drunk you fucking dunce

**Stan Marsh:** - i'll drunk schoolgirl if i want

**Craig Tucker:** -Well that's one thing we have in common

**Stan Marsh:** - you're not getting my alcohol either

**Stan Marsh:** - and if mellow has babies they're mine

**Stan Marsh:** -i'll go to court, bitch

**Craig Tucker:** -I don't want your fucking grandbabies, so fucking keep them

**Stan Marsh:** - good cause they're mine and if ones a fucking abssisnan i'm gonna tumblr that shit

**Stan Marsh:** - so you have to look at it

**Stan Marsh:** - and miss out on its life

**Stan Marsh:** - mine

**Craig Tucker:** -It won't be Abyssinian moron, it would be half Peruvian and half short-haired.

**Stan Marsh:** - what thefuck are you, a geneticist

**Craig Tucker:** -Kenny is coming over so fuck off. I swear to god if you text me while he's here, I will tear your throat

**Stan Marsh:** - with what. your teeth.

**Stan Marsh:** - come at me bro

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **- so hows that meeting going dude

**Stan Marsh: **- tell kenny i said heeeey

**Stan Marsh: **- dudeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

**Stan Marsh: **- why do you not respond

**Stan Marsh: **- miss your messages

**Stan Marsh: **- craiggggg gggggggg gggggggg gggggg ggggggggg

**Stan Marsh: **- everyone else is boring

**Stan Marsh: **- excite me

**Stan Marsh: **- craigggg gggggg gggggggg ggggggg ggggggggg ggggggggg gggggggggg gggggggggggggggg

**Stan Marsh: **- craiggggggggggggg i love you

* * *

**Craig Tucker: **-Fuck you; I told you Kenny was fucking coming over and you still kept fucking texting me. What if he would have just seen that fucking "I love you" text? Fuck you.

**Stan Marsh: **- but craig i love you thats why i'm texting

**Stan Marsh: **- don't belike that

**Craig Tucker: **-Fuck you. You don't love me, stop fucking saying that

**Stan Marsh: **- i do love you

**Stan Marsh: **- i love you a lot

**Craig Tucker: **-No. You don't. You're just fucking drunk.

**Stan Marsh: **- fucking love drunk, bitch

**Craig Tucker: **-Stop, you're freaking me out.

**Stan Marsh: **- fuck you, i won't stop until i die of alcohol poisoning

**Stan Marsh: **- thats another like five bottles at least so

**Craig Tucker: **-Maybe you should stop drinking and go the fuck to bed.

**Stan Marsh: **- no

**Stan Marsh: **- never fucking stop

**Craig Tucker: **-And why the fuck not?

**Stan Marsh: **- cause i love you

**Craig Tucker: **-Stop saying that.

**Stan Marsh: **- i. love. you.

**Craig Tucker: **-Stop.

**Stan Marsh: **- no. love you.

**Craig Tucker: **-Okay, now you're just doing it to be a dick. I'm leaving my phone.

**Stan Marsh: **- …don't leave me

**Stan Marsh: **- i have attachment issues come back

**Craig Tucker: **-Stop being fucking attached to me. I thought we were over this; it's been almost a fucking week.

**Stan Marsh: **- no

**Stan Marsh: **- i miss you

**Craig Tucker: **-Well I don't miss you.

**Stan Marsh: **- why not

**Craig Tucker: **-Because I don't want to.

**Stan Marsh: **- i miss you..

**Craig Tucker: **-Fucking stop.

**Stan Marsh: **- but craig

**Stan Marsh: **- i miss you

**Craig Tucker: **-Don't miss me; miss you're fucking girlfriend.

**Stan Marsh: **- but i miss youuuuuuu

**Craig Tucker: **-If that's all you're going to say, then I'm really leaving this time

**Stan Marsh: **- craiggggggggg I think the antichrist might kill me

**Stan Marsh: **- i'm gonna go hide under my bed covers k

**Craig Tucker: **-Why would he kill you?

**Stan Marsh: **- i don't know

**Craig Tucker: **-What the fuck did you do? That guy doesn't get angry without a reason

**Stan Marsh: **- ok ive got my phone

**Craig Tucker: **-That's not what I fucking asked. What did you do?

**Craig Tucker: **-Is he really going to kill you?

**Stan Marsh: **- i don't think so

**Stan Marsh: **- i'm good

**Craig Tucker: **-Great, then I can ignore you without worrying about your health.

**Stan Marsh: **- ok

**Stan Marsh: **- wait i don't want you to ignore me

**Stan Marsh: **- come back

**Stan Marsh: **- craig

**Stan Marsh: **- ..i'm lonely

**Craig Tucker: **-What the fuck do you want from me?

**Stan Marsh: **- i want you

**Craig Tucker: **-Anything else? Because that's not happening.

**Stan Marsh: **- a hug

**Craig Tucker: **-That involves me. No.

**Stan Marsh: **- but craig

**Craig Tucker: **-But fucking nothing. No.

**Stan Marsh: **- i still miss you then

**Craig Tucker: **-Then fucking miss me. I don't care.

**Stan Marsh: **- ok..

**Stan Marsh: **- i'm thinking of you

**Craig Tucker: **-I knw you are, you haven't shut up about me.

**Stan Marsh: **- i'm gonna sleep.

**Stan Marsh: **- night.

**Craig Tucker: **-Yeah, you do that.

**Stan Marsh: **- love you

**Craig Tucker: **-Uh huh.


	13. 05 19 2012

05.19.2012-05.20.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **- craig

**Craig Tucker: **-I'm not talking to you, so don't bother.

**Stan Marsh: **- I'll drop your clothes off later. Sorry about last night.

**Stan Marsh: **- mellow is pregnant but you don't have to do anything, I'm already finding homes if theres a lot.

**Stan Marsh: **- just letting you know if you want one I'm okay with that. Bye.

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **- you're single?

**Craig Tucker: **-…yes?

**Stan Marsh: **- dude what

**Stan Marsh: **- what happened

**Stan Marsh: **- are you ok?

**Craig Tucker: **-You happened, moron. He couldn't take it anymore.

**Stan Marsh: **- …oh

**Stan Marsh: **- …i'm sorry?

**Craig Tucker: **-Whatever.

**Stan Marsh: **- are you ok though?

**Craig Tucker: **-Does it matter? It's his fucking decision, not mine.

**Stan Marsh: **- ..you have feelings too, you dick. I'm asking if you're okay.

**Craig Tucker: **-I'm fine, go away.

**Stan Marsh: **- okay…if you need anything, I'm here.

**Craig Tucker: **-No, I'm not going to come crying to you, asshole, I have friends to bitch at

**Stan Marsh: **- …you cry?

**Craig Tucker: **-No, it's a figure of speech, dick

**Stan Marsh: **- whatever…..

**Stan Marsh: **- …so do you want to hang out

**Craig Tucker: **-Why would I want to hang out

**Stan Marsh: **- you want to hold mellow?

**Craig Tucker: **-No, I have my own guinea pig to hold

**Stan Marsh: **- she's chubby though it's cute

**Craig Tucker: **-I don't care, leave me alone

**Stan Marsh: **- come on you want to hug Mellow

**Craig Tucker: **-No, you want me to come over there under that excuse and then hug /you/

**Stan Marsh: **- i won't get jealous if you hug mellow jfc

**Craig Tucker: **-I didn't accuse you of being jealous, did I

**Stan Marsh: **- .. I guess

**Craig Tucker: **-Whatever, I don't care what your reason is, I'm still not coming over

**Stan Marsh: **- ..ok.

**Stan Marsh: **- …do you hate me now?

**Craig Tucker: **- I never stopped hating you

**Stan Marsh: **- …that's so romantic

**Craig Tucker: **-Was I trying to be romantic? No.

**Stan Marsh: **- well I hate you more

**Craig Tucker: **-Uh huh, so stop texting me, thanks

**Stan Marsh: **- ….ok

**Stan Marsh: **-…..well I did miss you

**Craig Tucker: **-Ugh please just stop

**Stan Marsh: **- why?

**Craig Tucker: **-Because I don't want to talk to you right now. Or ever, actually.

**Stan Marsh: **- …why…

**Craig Tucker: **-Because I hate you and you're a fucking moron

**Stan Marsh: **- …that's not very nice

**Craig Tucker: **-Since when am I nice to you?

**Stan Marsh: **- ..since we cuddled on your bed multiple times

**Craig Tucker: **- You were being a bitch and that's how I shut you up.

**Stan Marsh: **- …sure, that's why you leaned on me too, huh

**Craig Tucker: **-When did I lean on you

**Stan Marsh: **- …why are you being this way

**Craig Tucker: **-Because fuck you.

**Stan Marsh: **- …what

**Stan Marsh: **- craig, come on.

**Stan Marsh: **- you like me. admit it.

**Craig Tucker: **-No fuck you.

**Stan Marsh: **- …just..ugh. you're unbearable.

**Craig Tucker: **-That's good, stop talking to me then.

**Stan Marsh: **- so what are you doing

**Stan Marsh: **- i threw out my alcohol but

**Stan Marsh: **- i think i'm just going to drink again

**Stan Marsh: **- fuck it

**Stan Marsh: **- ginger schnapps

**Stan Marsh: **- omg i have whiskey under the bed

**Stan Marsh: **- so yeah, I'm single

**Stan Marsh: **- if you need me, don't bother looking at my house. in an hour I'll be at the bottom of starks.

**Craig Tucker: **-Dude, I was talking to Token, chill the fuck out. We need to talk about something.

**Stan Marsh: **- nope. we don't.

**Craig Tucker: **-We do.

**Stan Marsh: **- no. we don't.

**Craig Tucker: **-You've been trying to get me to talk to you for days and now that I'm willing you don't want to?

**Stan Marsh: **- no. i don't want to talk to you.

**Craig Tucker: **-Since fucking when?

**Stan Marsh: **- since now. ley me enjoy my paper bag whiskey in peace, douche

**Craig Tucker: **-Fuck you, I actually want to talk to you

**Stan Marsh: **- no. you don't

**Craig Tucker: **-How would you know what I want?

**Stan Marsh: **- youve made it clear

**Craig Tucker: **-Well I changed my mind

**Stan Marsh: **- shut up, you did not. you're just fucking with me.

**Craig Tucker: **-No I'm not, I have something to say

**Stan Marsh: **- well I don't want to hear it now. I'm drinking.

**Craig Tucker: **-Then fucking stop drinking. Where are you at?

**Stan Marsh: **- seriously, just let me kill my liver in peace, jfc

**Craig Tucker: **-Fuck you, you're not killing any part of yourself. How many times have you forced me to listen to you? Just hear me out here, where are you at?

**Stan Marsh: **- not responding anymore

**Craig Tucker: **-Fuck you, you're a dick

**Stan Marsh: **- fuck you tooo.

* * *

**Craig, still in his car on his way home from Token's, decides to just go to Stark's. That's where Stan said he was going, so even if he's not there right now, he will be. When he pulls up to the pond, he sees Stan's truck parked on… what looks like a fucking bush. Stan fucking drove drunk? What a fucking moron!**

**He gets out of his car and scans the area, looking for signs of Stan. When he doesn't see any, he panics just a little because Stan said he'd be at the bottom of Stark's. What if Stan tried killing himself? What the fuck is with everyone and suicide lately? He looks at the pond, like if Stan was at the bottom, he'd somehow see him, but what he actually sees is Stan floating on top of the lake on the little raft that stays out there. What the fuck, why is he on a raft drunk. Stan is **_**really **_**fucking stupid sometimes. All the time.**

**He approaches the edge of the pond and considers how he's supposed to get out there. After a moment, he decides that it's warm enough to swim – the only reason he'd really worn a hoodie was because he's used to it – so he strips off his hoodie and his shoes and puts himself in the water. He makes his way over to the raft and heaves himself up onto it.**

"**What the fuck are you doing out here, dumbass?" he asks, slightly out of breath from swimming for the first time this year. He's a little chilly now that he's wet and in the breeze, but he doesn't pay it any mind. He'll be back in his car soon, anyway.**

Staring at the sky absentmindedly, Stan ignored the sound of Craig swimming out. In fact, even when the raft tilted a little when the other climbed aboard. In one hand, he had the upright whiskey bottle more than half empty - almost completely empty, really - and his clothes were soaking wet. He was wearing his shoes too - the only thing dry on him was his phone, which he had on his chest and was holding with his other hand.

Not blinking, he completely disregarded what the other said and stated apathetically, "The clouds are cool looking today."

**Craig sighs at Stan's random comment. Other than in the locker room, Craig has never been around Stan drunk. And he'd been pretty damn angry the last time, so he doesn't know how this will turn out. He really doesn't feel like trying to communicate with Stan while he's drunk, so he just lays down on the raft next to him, maybe a foot away.**

"**You should pass me that bottle," he says, feeling a little like he wants to be drunk too. He's just pissed and confused, and up until he realized that Stan isn't going to be worth talking to today, he'd been motivated. But now he just needs a damn drink.**

Stan turned his head to look at Craig, and then shoved the bottle a few inches towards the other, and then turned to look at the sky again. He was feeling extremely depressed; the way Wendy had reacted wasn't the way he expected, and he had wished he would have followed her to her room after she stormed off.

"What did you want to talk about." His voice was flat, but not really void entirely of emotion however, as his depression was obviously noticeable both physically and verbally.

**Craig takes the bottle and downs a few drinks before handing it back. He doesn't want to get totally wasted, just a little buzzed. It'll help take the edge off this horrible fucking week.**

"**Nothing, while you're this fucking gone," he says. He doesn't like dealing with Stan on a **_**regular**_** basis, and now he's going to be even more emotional because he's drunk. Not want he was looking for, but whatever. Laying out on this dock and drinking is just as good, he supposes, as long as they don't start fighting.**

"I've got a high tolerance," Stan said plainly, turning his head towards Craig as the other shoved the bottle back. He took the bottle and then threw it to the side - he heard it plunk somewhere on the surface of the water. Yes, it was littering, but he was sort of pissed he drank again - and even if he was addicted to alcohol, if he was pissed he could dump it.

"What is it?"

**Craig looks over at Stan for a second, trying to decide if Stan is lying or not, or even if he really wants to say anything right now. Stan sure as hell is **_**acting**_** drunk, but maybe that's just something else. Then again, if he's acting drunk, he's probably just fucking drunk.**

"**Nothing important," he says, turning to look back up at the sky. He stares at the clouds, thinking that Stan was right. They do look cool today.**

**In slight irritation with himself for not saying anything after he came all the way out here, he lets his hands fall from resting on his chest to laying flat on the wooden raft. He's such an idiot, why did he come out here at all?**

"Whatever." Stan said, picking up his phone as he pressed the button to make the screen turn on. Waiting a moment, he then said, "Maybe I should just let the antichrist murder me."

He glared at the phone, and set it on his chest again and then diverted his gaze towards the sky. Why did Craig come here just to lie next to him? Why didn't he say something productive?

"If you're here to tell me you're not going to date me ever and I'm a good for nothing idiot drunkard, just go away."

**Craig decides to ignore that first comment, because really, he's had enough to deal with suicide already, so fuck Stan for bringing it up. After a few moments of silence, he hears Stan's next comment.**

**He hesitates to say anything at first, but he slowly manages to say, "Actually… that's pretty much the exact opposite of why I'm here. I talked to Token… and he thinks I should give you a chance."**

**He doesn't say anything more than that, already regretting saying anything at all. This was a stupid idea, he and Stan will never work, and Stan wouldn't want to be with him anyway. Even if Token was right, it was still a stupid idea for Craig to think it might work out.**

Stan laid there for a moment, trying to think whether he was too drunk and that he had heard Craig wrong because of it; or if Craig actually just said what he thought he said. He finally tried sitting up, though he didn't exactly possess a lot of grace right now and because of this, he pulled himself up to a sitting position - and his hand slipped off the edge, which sent him backwards into the water. For a moment, he flailed and grabbed onto the side of the raft, swearing out loud as he wiped his eyes. "Fuck, my phone," He said as he looked around, waving his free hand in the water. Nope. He looked at Craig and then said, "Just..just hold on," He said and then dipped below the water, and tried diving down to grab it.

**Craig lays there awkwardly for a moment, not really knowing what to do. That's not exactly how he expected "hey, let's go out, maybe" to be answered. He supposes it's better than being rejected, or possibly worse, accepted, so he takes it as a good thing.**

**After a moment, he sits up, realizing that Stan dove under the water while intoxicated off his ass. People normally can't swim very well while under the influence of something. He stares at the spot where Stan went under for a moment before deciding to do something. If Stan drowns, that would fucking suck.**

**He lowers himself into the water, not wanting to jump for fear of landing on Stan. Once he's under, he keeps his eyes shut, fearing the pollution that might be in the water, but he realizes that he'll never be able to find Stan that way. He reluctantly opens them to find Stan just a yard or two away. He swims over and grabs him, pulling him back up to the raft.**

**With some amount of difficulty he shoves Stan back up onto the raft. He pulls himself back up, feeling a little weak from exerting so much energy while not being able to breathe. He tries to rub the pain from his eyes and then flips Stan onto his back. He puts an ear to Stan's chest to see if he's still breathing or not.**

Stan had been holding his breath and letting out bubbles for awhile, so by the time Craig came down, he knew he was almost out of air. He still was frantically trying to find his phone, but the weeds were too high, and he started worrying that he would get hooked by one of them. That, and he didn't know where he was in relation to the raft. When Craig started tugging on him, he went with, but the minute he gasped for air after lying there for a few seconds breathing heavily, he said, "Jesus fucking christ, why did you pull me up!" He was pissed - he already had to ask his parents for one phone replacement, but two in less than two months? They were going to take away his privileges.

"Goddamnit, I lost another fucking phone. Great." He looked at Craig however, seeing how close he was to him and checking if he was breathing. His heart skipped a beat, and the color started returning to his face as he looked away.

Sitting up slowly, he looked at Craig, and then looked down at his wet shoes. No wonder he was having trouble swimming up.

"You meant, give us a chance. Because I'm not the problem here." He reached up and squeezed his shirt by wringing it in the front, watching the water drip out of it.

"I just broke up with Wendy, I don't think I want to jump into something right now..but ..I guess I'll think about it." As much as he wanted to say yes, he just couldn't.

**Craig backs off as Stan sits up, giving him room to breathe after possibly almost drowning. After hearing Stan's sudden response, he doesn't really know what to say. He wasn't expecting the first thing Stan would say after Craig saved him would be that.**

"**I wasn't asking you to be my boyfriend, or even really go out with me; I just said I'd give it a chance. Meaning if you want to hang out or whatever, that'd be okay. Or like if you wanted to…" he trails off, figuring that was enough explanation. Besides, he'd been about to say 'if you wanted to keep messing around, that'd be cool too' but he doesn't want to ask for that. If they're ever going to find out if they're going to work, they have to agree on more than just sex or kisses.**

Stan's mouth had fallen partway open, staring at Craig like he could kill him. In fact, he was feeling like he should shove the other off the raft, but he refrained and forced his mouth closed by locking his jaw, and then glared off for a few minutes.

"I'm not going to be your sex toy, you son of a bitch. Fuck off, Craig."

He glanced over as he moved to get off the raft, and then looked down - there was his phone, barely on the edge of the raft. How did he miss that? Grabbing it, he threw his legs over the edge, about to slip off as he mumbled, "Fucking bastard.."

"**Dude, wait, that's not what I'm saying either," he says a little too quickly, trying to stop Stan from leaving him. He stops after that, trying to figure out why he'd said it that way. If Stan wants to reject him, it wouldn't be the first time, so why shouldn't he just let Stan go…**

"**I mean… whatever, just go…" he says, trying to take it all back. This was such a stupid fucking idea. He knew it wouldn't work out anyway, even if Stan acted like he wanted to be together before. He slumps in his sitting position, defeated. Why does**_**nothing**_** work for him anymore?**

"What were you trying to say then? That we could be friends? Yeah, I totally want to be friends with a jackass who asks if we can still fuck around. What, are you going to go date someone on the side too? That'd be hilarious, karma and all that." Stan said loudly, gripping his phone in his hand. He wasn't exactly sure he could swim across again without getting it wet, so he was pretty sure it would break tonight from getting waterlogged.

Turning to look over his shoulder, he said angrily, "I can't believe you. I can't believe I actually thought something might work out. I left Wendy because she started doing dumb shit like, I don't know, like talking down to me and now you want to just use me, I'm so sick of this shit. I'm done, okay, I don't want any relationships, I just want to be fucking alone. No one really gives a fuck anyways if I'm happy or miserable, so I don't want to be either around anyone. And all I want right now is at the bottom of the lake because I'm fucking pissed and I threw it and I just wanted my fucking ten dollar alcohol," He hadn't realized he felt a burning feeling in his eyes as they watered up again - he had been crying when he got here, but apparently he was just too stressed to even realize he was doing it anymore.

"And what the fuck, why am I leaving the raft. I was here first. Get the fuck off my raft, Tucker."

**Craig gets angry when Stan starts accusing him, but as Stan's rant goes on, it just starts to depress him. Why are they both so messed up over this? Why did they let it get this bad? As he continues to stare at Stan, he actually starts crying. Why is Stan crying now?**

**At being told to get off the raft, Craig really doesn't think that's a good idea. Stan really looks like he needs someone, and Craig is willing to put aside his own anger, just this once, to make sure that Stan is okay and not actually going to throw himself into the bottom of the pond.**

**He scoots his way closer to Stan and takes him into a tight embrace. "I'm sorry," is all he says, though he's not really sure what exactly he's apologizing for. Sometimes, though, when someone thinks you've done something wrong, you just have to apologize and move on. He didn't want this encounter to turn out this way, but as soon as Stan stops looking like he's about to break, Craig is just going to go home and lay in his bed until he dies of old age.**

Falling short of sobbing, Stan pulled his feet up out of the water and then wraps his arms around Craig as he turned. He did need a hug, and he didn't give a shit if it was from Craig - actually, that was who he wanted to hug all day, so he wasn't sure why he felt so horrible when he finally got it. Maybe it was because he still remembered how Wendy looked when she finally heard what he did - maybe it was because when he looked through his drunk texts, he remembered vaguely how distraught he was when Craig was refusing his actual true feelings; maybe he just didn't know what to feel anymore.

"I fucking hate you," He said quietly, realizing how much like lake they smelled right now. It was odd the things he thought about when he was drunk, but it wasn't that unusual as he tried to form some sort of response to Craig's random apology.

"Just fucking date me, you asshole."

**Craig holds onto Stan and just lets him hug it out. He doesn't really mind anymore; he actually kind of likes being close to Stan.**

**At the 'I hate you' he doesn't really think much of it, because that's every other sentence they say to each other, but at the next sentence, he gets a little stuck. …date Stan? Don't you have to be nice when you date someone? Are they capable of being nice all the time without fighting?**

"**Didn't you just say you didn't want to?" he asks, petting his hand through Stan's wet hair. He doesn't ask because he doesn't want to, but because he wants to make sure Stan isn't going to regret it the next day. Stan is drunk, after all.**

Leaning exhaustedly on the other, his eyes were half closed as he thought about what he just said. Had it been actually what he wanted? He wasn't really sure, his brain was foggy from the liquor. But it felt good to be close to Craig, and he liked how the other cradled him in his arms and pet his head.

"I said …I don't remember what I said. I just want you to stay here. Don't leave my raft." He was still claiming the raft - after all, he was here first. Craig couldn't have his goddamn raft, he had to get permission.

"Just..I don't care what happens, just be with me. Don't leave me."

**Craig feels strangely satisfied with that answer. Don't leave. Okay, that Craig can do. They don't' have to call it anything, or be anything, they can just stick together. "Yeah, I can do that…" he agrees, suppressing the tiny smile that threatens his lips. This is possibly the first relatively good thing that's happened to him in quite some time.**

**Noticing Stan start to drift a bit, he shakes him a little. "Hey don't fall asleep out here," he says, trying to keep Stan awake. "You can come back to my place so I can make sure you don't accidently kill yourself or something," he offers, not knowing if Stan will take it or not. With the way Stan is laying on him now, though, he hopes it'll be accepted. He kind of just wants to stay like this all night.**

"Goddamnit though, I have to drive my truck home," Stan muttered, even though Craig tried shaking him awake. He absentmindedly reached down to his pants pocket, finding his keys weren't there.

"Ah…damn," He grumbled again, "Stupid keys in ignition…" It was probably for the best, considering he had gone in the water twice and could have lost them in the lake instead of leaving them in a semi-safe spot, like the ignition.

Pushing the button on his phone, he noticed the time was nearing dinner and he probably should text his mom that he wasn't going to make it and was at someone else's house, even though he was wasted at the lake. He tried opening the messages and then eventually held the phone out to Craig, figuring it would probably be better if he didn't send a half-messed up text to his mother.

"Could you like..message my mom and tell her I'm not going to make it for dinner."

**Craig takes Stan's phone, wondering why Stan would do something like leave his keys in his ignition. That's stupid, but whatever, he was drunk driving anyway. He types out something about "sorry, at a friend's, can't come to dinner" and shuts the phone again.**

**He then faces a problem. How is he going to get Stan back to land? He doesn't really see any other option that carrying Stan through the water, so… that's what he's going to do. "I'm going to put you in the water, okay?" he asks, though he doesn't care for a response. There's no other way to do this, so he's just going to do it. He lowers them into the water and somehow manages to keep both of their heads above the surface, along with Stan's cell phone, and gets them back to the shore.**

**He picks up his hoodie from the ground and puts it on Stan's soaked body to keep him from freezing in the night chill. He walks over to his car and puts Stan in the front seat before shutting it and leaving again.**

**He moves Stan's truck off the bush and then locks it, taking the key so no one will steal the truck. He also goes to gather the rest of his stuff from the shore line before finally returning to the car. He gets in and starts the car with a sigh. Rescuing Stan from bad situations better not become a regular thing because this is fucking exhausting.**

**He turns on the heat and starts to drive home. "You okay over there?" he asks, wondering if Stan had managed to fall asleep in that short of time.**

After Craig dragged him through the water and put his hoodie on him, Stan huffed slightly and watched the other move his truck. Well, hopefully no one stole parts out of it or thought it was abandoned, because that was his ride, and he was strangely possessive of his car. He put on the seat belt and then started to drift off, and barely opened his eyes when he heard the door open - as soon as the car started he drifted off again and fell asleep with his head leaning against the head rest.

**At not receiving a response, Craig just keeps driving silently. At least with Stan asleep, he has a little bit of time to think before he gets home.**

**So what exactly just happened? Are he and Stan… some kind of together? Maybe not in a relationship, or dating, but they have something else. Is it even exclusive? …does Craig **_**care**_** if it's exclusive?**

**Unfortunately, he gets home with more questions than answers. He shuts off the car when he gets there and looks back over at Stan, still fast asleep. …he's going to have to carry this bastard, isn't he?  
He gets out of the car and goes around to Stan's side. He pulls him out of the car and takes him into his arms bridal-style. He rolls his eyes when Stan doesn't even wake up. Yeah, high tolerance for alcohol alright…**

**He carries Stan into the house. He plans to tell his family that he found Stan passed out on the side of the road, not caring that the story doesn't match up with the fact that they're both soaked, but they aren't in the living room when he walks in. He decides not to question it because it's a good thing and just takes Stan upstairs.**

**He sits Stan in his wooden desk chair so that they won't get the bed all wet. Fortunately, he'd gotten all his laundry done since the last time Stan was there, so he pulls out two sets of dry night clothes. He looks at Stan, wondering if he'll wake up long enough to get dressed or if he'll have the extremely awkward task of changing him.**

"**Hey, Stan, wake up," he says, shaking him lightly by the shoulders.**

Stan's brow furrowed slightly as he felt himself being shaken, and he stubbornly kept his eyes closed. Who the fuck was trying to wake him up? He didn't want to get up, he didn't feel good, he wanted to stay in a numbing sleep. He moved only to drape himself on the wooden chair more comfortably, without opening his eyes so it was debatable whether he was awake or not.

**Frustrated with Stan's unwillingness to cooperate, he's just going to do it himself. He takes his hoodie off Stan first, then his shirt and shoes, and then somehow manages to get Stan's wet jeans off. Wet jeans are always a pain in the ass to begin with, and to make it worse, Stan is sitting. He considers leaving Stan in his boxers because he doesn't want to make things worse for himself when Stan wakes up, but he doesn't want his bed to get wet from them soaking through his pants. So after a moment, he takes those too, and then gets Stan into a pair of flannel pants. He gives him another shirt, too, and then lifts him back into his arms before putting him down on his bed.**

**After he finally gets Stan laid down, he strips himself and gets into some dry clothes as well. He's about to crawl into bed, because really, he's exhausted, but he considers it for a second. Before climbing into bed, he pulls his trash can up beside it. He doesn't doubt that Stan will puck when he wakes up, and he really doesn't feel like cleaning it up.**

**He gets into bed on the opposite side than he normally would so that Stan will be closer to the edge and have access to the trash can. He pulls the covers up over them and then hesitates a moment. He wants to be closer… they're doing that now, right? Deciding that Stan is drunk and asleep anyway, he figures that it doesn't matter; he can do whatever he wants. So he scooches over close to Stan and pulls him against his chest in a sleepy embrace. He falls asleep listening to Stan's deep breaths.**

Around seven, Stan was slowly awoken by a burning feeling in the back of his throat. His eyes snapped open and he went to get off the bed- but then he realized there was a garbage can. Good, because he really wouldn't have made it to the bathroom. He lost his lunch in the bin, and then looked around for something to wipe his face with - and found a dirty shirt sticking out underneath the bed. Grabbing it and wiping his face with it, he put it back on the floor - totally intending to tell Craig what he did to his shirt later, of course.

He realized then he was in Craig's room again. Christ, was this going to be where he woke up every day? He looked down to his waist, where Craig's arm was, and then he noticed his clothes were changed into Craig's. A warm fuzzy feeling was spreading through his chest and to his limbs as he realized the other had taken him home from Stark's, and not only that, but changed him into clothes…and then given him a garbage can. Ignoring the headache that was threatening to throb in his head, he scooted back again to fit in Craig's arms more comfortably again.

**Craig vaguely stirs when he feels Stan start to pull away from him, but he ignores it when he feels Stan settle back into his arms. He absently tightens his hold for a second like a 'welcome back' before losing all consciousness again.**

**He wakes again maybe 20 minutes later but he doesn't really want to be awake, so he just lays there, enjoying the feel of a body pressed up against his own. Eventually he asks quietly, "You awake yet?"**

Stan felt the other's breathing pattern change after awhile, and then realized he probably was awake. Really, Stan had been enjoying the quiet because his headache was progressively worse, and he had a horrible compulsion to check his phone, which was probably in Craig's car.

"…yeah." He said quietly, hoping Craig wouldn't ask for answers to hard questions, like what they were. Couldn't they just keep their relationship a 'thing' until further notice?

He moved his arm to rest it on Craig's, finding the other's hand and then weaving his fingers on top of his.

"…thanks."

**Craig feels himself grow warm when Stan he melds their hands together. He never though Stan would ever be holding his hand… or that he'd want Stan to.**

"**Don't mention it," he says, scooting a bit closer and burying his face in the back of Stan's neck. "But don't make it a fucking habit; I'm not your goddamn babysitter," he adds. It's the kind of comment he'd normally make, but his tone is different. It's not angry; he's not sure what kind of feeling it would be classified as, but angry definitely isn't it. Not quite playful… whatever, it doesn't matter what it is. All that matters right now is the fact that they're laying in bed like this.**

**Craig feels a bit queasy about the fact that that's what he's concerned about, but he lets it pass. He has to get used to liking things if they're ever going to have a chance at working out.**

Frowning slightly at Craig's comment, he knew he wasn't really annoyed by it. From the way Craig said it, really he didn't pick up on any anger. He raised an eyebrow as he looked at the time - it was pretty late, and he really didn't want to go anywhere. Maybe he could…stay the night? It seemed pretty awkward to ask the other if he could stay the night though, so he decided to not bring it up, even if they had done it before.

With a loud sigh, he patted Craig's hand and then said, "I'm going to go get my phone and take out the trash." It was meant to make the other back off without shoving him away, just so he didn't feel rejected. "..uh..I'll be back."

**He really doesn't want to let Stan go, because he's so damned comfortable, but he relents. He doesn't want to be **_**that guy**_**, especially when they're not even in a real relationship. That would just be… odd.**

**He allows Stan to get up, but asks, "Are you staying tonight?" It's meant to be an offer, but Craig doesn't know how to say 'stay here' without it being weird. He's not used to wanting Stan to be around, not at all. He vaguely wonders how long Stan could Stay there until they started destroying his room.**

"Sure," Stan said as he moved off the bed and picked up the trash can. Thank god there was a plastic bag in it, because he really hated cleaning out trash cans. He walked out the door with it, and walked down the steps to go to the car barefoot to find his phone on the seat.

He walked back inside, picked up the garbage bag and then went out to put it in the garbage can outside, and then went inside and picked up the can and carried it back up the stairs as he messaged people on his phone. He almost missed a step when he reached the top, but caught himself before he got upstairs.

Opening the door, he put the garbage can down near the door, and then walked back to the bed with the phone in his hand, and laid down where he was before. Scooting up to go back where he was, he pulled the phone up to his face to continue texting Kyle.

**Craig just lays there as Stan walks away. After all, Stan said he'd come back, so why move? It unfortunately gives him more time to think while Stan is gone, though. He really wants to know what's going on, but then again, maybe he doesn't. If they don't talk about it or thing about it, they can just let it happen and be fine with it. Right? Is that what they're doing; just letting it happen?**

**By the time Stan comes back, Craig has himself again wondering if this is an exclusive thing. He wants to ask, but then again, he might not want to know. Craig doesn't even know what he wants to answer to be. If Stan said no, would Craig get jealous? If Stan said yes, what would the implications be?**

**Craig is pleased when Stan just inserts himself right back where he'd already been. It's a good thing they like being close; if nothing else, they definitely enjoy fucking cuddling, and that's normal enough.**

**He notices that Stan has his phone with him and tries not to look at the screen. He hates when people look over his shoulder, so why wouldn't everyone else? It's not like he has anything to hide, he just… doesn't like it. He just lays his head behind Stan's on the pillow and lets Stan's body settle into his own.**

"**So who're you talking to?" he asks, just to start a conversation.**

"Pfftt," Stan said after a minute, turning off the screen. He realized Craig had asked a question, so he moved his hand to sit on top of Craig's again and then said, "Kyle, but he's being stupid."

Now, usually Stan wouldn't have said something against his SBF, especially not to Craig; but ever since Kyle told him he had a crush on Kenny, Stan couldn't stop thinking about it. And now that Kenny was giving Kyle a truck, he was almost positive they were doing a lot more then they told everyone else.

"Kenny's giving him a truck for his birthday. Like there's no fucking strings attached to that, obviously." The sarcasm was positively dripping off of his words as he glared at his phone. "Then he goes on about how it's bad I'm over here. Like, what. If he's accepting a fucking truck, I'm sleeping here for a year."

**Craig raises an eyebrow at Stan's little rant. Does that mean… "Yeah, Kenny told me he was giving his truck away. He told me I should move on, too, because he already did…" he trails off for a second before petting to the point he's trying to make. "Are Kenny and Kyle together?" he asks. He's not… upset, per say. But definitely curious.**

"**And no, I don't think you could handle sleeping here for a year," he chuckles, not sure which part of Craig's meaning he'll pick up on. He'd actually originally meant that they'd probably destroy each other before a year was up, but then he thought about his family, too, and how Stan probably wouldn't be able to handle them either. And then he thought about what'd happened the previous Monday, and the meaning behind his words got a lot more perverse. According to the way things had gone that day, Craig doesn't think even **_**he**_** could last the whole year.**

"Probably. I don't fucking know." Stan grumbled after Craig asked the question, growing more irate at the thought of Kyle and Kenny co-owning a truck. They'd go everywhere together. That bothered him. But why did it bother him? Was it because they were together? God, he didn't care.

Automatically thinking of what happened on Monday, Stan momentarily was thrown off his glowering spree. Actually, even with the pounding headache, he really wouldn't care if Craig wanted to do something this minute…but really, it was probably not the best idea since he wasn't sure if he was going to throw up again, and he didn't have a tooth brush.

"Yeah. I couldn't handle sleeping here because we probably wouldn't sleep."

"**Pff, did you just say that?" he asks, amused by Stan's slight bitchiness. Stan saying that implies that they're going to continue messing around, and that's definitely okay with Craig. Not that that's the only thing he cares about. Not anymore, anyway. At the beginning, it was pretty much all sexual frustration, but at this point, he actually cares about Stan, even if just a little bit.**

"**I think we should just lay here all day though," he says, nuzzling his nose into the back of Stan's neck slowly. He's not sure why he's acting so affectionate, but he just goes with it because it feels like the right thing to do. He's also not sure why he just admitted that he wants to lay in bed all day with Stan, because that's a really couple-y thing to do, but he doesn't even care at this point. He wants it, so he's going to say it.**

"Mmmm…yeah, I did." Stan responded shortly, and then felt shivers go down his spine as the other nuzzled his neck. It wasn't a bad feeling, just…nice. Maybe if Craig had been facing him, he would find this stranger, but at the moment because he was facing away, he didn't think of it as that odd. It almost felt normal.

By all day, did he mean all night? Or maybe he wanted to lay here all Sunday. Stan thought it was a bit lazy, but really, he liked the fact he could walk out of the room and come back and go back to lying in Craig's arms. As gay as it sounded, it was making him strangely relieved, and suddenly Kyle and Kenny doing crap without him didn't bother him all that much.

"Okay," He said compliantly, and then started to thoughtlessly rub his thumb against the top of Craig's hand.

**Craig curls his body in around Stan's a little more, holding onto Stan like a teddy bear or something. He's not sure why he likes holding Stan as much as he does. He's really not that much of a huggy person, but for whatever reason, his body likes being next to Stan's.**

"**Yeah? You're going to lay here and let me use you as a pillow all day? You must really fucking like me," he says. It's teasing, but it's not meant to be mean. More like joking about their situation to make it seem not quite as heavy. Maybe if they can make it seem like something fun, it'll make it actually fun, and then they won't have to worry about the consequences quite as much.**

As the other curled around him more, it forced him to curl up too. If Craig tightened his grip any more than he did just now, Stan would have to tell him he was doing this cuddling thing wrong. He wasn't supposed to suffocate the other party involved.

"Yeah. Every day I spend hours wondering how I can bring you more comfort, and I've finally found that the way to do that is to be your living pillow." He was being sarcastic, but it wasn't as icy as he usually was when he shot comments off at Craig.

"**Mm, well you were right," he says, voice still humored, even if it was slightly actually true. But he knows it's true about Stan, too. The other day, the only thing he could do to get Stan to quit bitching for three seconds was to hold him tight.**

**He shifts their hands around so that they're palm to palm, and closes his fingers around Stan's hand. He wants Stan to turn around so he can kiss him or something, but he's not sure how he feels about the fact that Stan just vomited. That would be pretty damn gross. But then again, if it's just the outsides of their mouths… maybe it wouldn't matter? Or maybe that's just wishful thinking.**

**Either way, he says, "You should let me kiss you." It's soft, but not exactly quiet, if there's a difference. He even loosens his hold on Stan a bit so he has room to wiggle around.**

"If you've got toothpaste, sure. I'll go brush with my finger." Stan said plainly, not in the mood to kiss with vomit still lingering on his breath. That was possibly the grossest thing he could think of, even though he was pretty sure in his past history of drunken adventures, he probably made out with Kyle with some form of vomit in his mouth. He'd have to ask Kyle how bad that was.

His hand voluntarily squeezed Craig's in acknowledgement after the other moved his to meet palms, and he sighed as the other gave him room to turn over.

"If you let someone who just puked kiss you right now, I'll wonder what kinky shit you're into. More like gross shit, but whatever."

"**Sure, go brush, but avoid the family unless you feel like telling them why you're here," he advises, a little put down by the fact that his kiss was denied. But it's probably a good thing if Stan goes to brush his teeth, then they don't have to worry about grossness if things **_**do **_**progress at some point in the day.**

"**And I said **_**kiss**_** not **_**make out**_**. Unless you puked all over your face, there shouldn't be a problem here," he says. In all reality, he's pretty pleased with the fact that Stan is still compliant sober. And also with the fact that Stan assumed a kiss would lead to other things. He's pretty amused by the fact that Stan was so easily corrupted with the sexual need. Not that it's a bad thing.**

"It's still gross," Stan grumbled passively as he crawled out of bed, and made his way towards the door. Once halfway down, he waited a minute to see if he could hear someone walking around- no, it was quiet. He rounded the corner and went in the empty bathroom, and then grabbed the toothpaste next to the tooth brush holder and opened it. After brushing his teeth with his finger, he smelled his shirt and realized with some disgust that he reeked of lake water. Gross. "Whatever.." he muttered as he walked out, and shot back up the steps a bit noisily. Once inside Craig's room again he walked over to the bed and climbed on, then settled down next to the other with his body facing him. "We smell like lake." He said, not caring if it wasn't the sexiest thing to say.

**Craig waits until Stan comes back, trying to think of what he would tell his parents if they **_**did**_** find out Stan is there. Earlier he might have been able to get away with the I-found-him-on-the-side-of-the-road thing, but now Stan isn't sick, and what's more, he's wearing Craig's clothes. That seems pretty broish, if nothing else, and it's not exactly a secret that Craig hates Stan. …will it be a secret that they have this **_**thing**_**?**

**When Stan returns to the bed, he drapes an arm over him and leans their forehead together. He represses the urge to sigh with his mildly frustrating thoughts. He wants to ask what the fuck they are, or what they're going to tell people. Then again, didn't Craig already decide that he doesn't want to know?**

"**Well you can take a shower if you want, but I'm a lazy fuck and I'm waiting until morning," he says, trying to fall into the conversation instead of his thoughts. He tilts his head from forward from leaning against Stan's and takes that kiss he'd wanted.**

When the other moved closer to press their foreheads together, he felt his heart skip a beat. He was somewhat irate still that Craig made him feel this way, and as the other stated he was a lazy fuck, Stan decided he really didn't care if they smelled like lake. He'd rather not get caught by Tucker's family. He watched the other move in for a kiss, and he smiled slightly when they pressed their lips gently against one another's. Moving back to observe Craig's face, he reached up and brushed the others' dark hair from his forehead, and trailed his fingers back through his hair. Then he rested his arm on Craig, but in a way that he could still massage Craig's head with his hand.

**Craig feels Stan smile into the kiss, and it sort of makes him happy. He likes when he can make people smile, he just never thought one of those people would be Stan Marsh.**

**Craig tilts his head into Stan's touch just a little, responding to the fingers in his hair. Before he really thinks about it, he asks, "Is it just a thing you have to play with hair, or do you know how much I like it?"**

**It's becoming a really bad habit to just say whatever comes to mind, and Craig isn't sure he likes it. He's normally not like that with anyone but… really only Token, Clyde, and Tweek because they're his best bros and he knows he can trust them. But with Stan… Craig just **_**does**_** it. Where is his filter going?**

Staring at Craig without a distinct expression on his face, he stopped his hand for a moment as he thought about it. Well, truthfully he just liked playing with Craig's hair; he liked running his hand through Wendy's but since it was so long he had a fear of getting his hand tangled in it and tugging a bit too hard. But with Craig's, he had to consciously try to pull his hair to cause him pain, and not to mention he was extremely responsive to it. Since Craig was a stoic douchebag and hardly ever responded to anything, Stan found this quirk very alluring. "If this is 'say whatever you're thinking' time, I do it because I like getting a reaction out of you." He resumed his gentle massage just at the base of Craig's neck, toying with the short hair there.

**Craig doesn't understand what Stan means by that, considering Craig reacts more to Stan than really anyone he knows. They're always pissing each other off or yelling or fighting, or, more recently, fooling around. "You get all kinds of reactions out of me," he expresses, not really caring if Stan elaborates or not. He supposes if Stan's goal in touching him is to get a reaction, then that's not so bad anyway, because it still means that Stan is touching him, so whatever.**

"**Whatever, it doesn't matter why you're doing it, because you're doing it," he says, reaching up to run his fingers through Stan's as well.**

"Yeah," Stan said flatly, narrowing his eyes a bit when Craig returned the favor. He stared at Craig's eyes for a minute, and then looked away and removed his hand from the other as he turned his back to him in order to cuddle up again. He was feeling pretty shitty thinking about everything that happened, but for some reason it still amazed him the only thing that turned out well was receiving Craig's affection. Talk about an episode of the Twilight Zone- this didn't even feel real. "Can we go to sleep? I'm tired. And my head hurts." It was the truth, but he also wanted to sleep because he didn't want to get Craig riled up right now. Maybe tomorrow morning, though.

"**Um… yeah," he says after a second, taking Stan loosely against his chest again. He's not really tired, but whatever. Stan's probably really hungover, and Craig can definitely sympathize with that. He thinks about offering Stan a Tylenol or something, but he figures if Stan wants it, he'll ask. Besides, Craig's done enough taking care of Stan to last him a fucking life time, so he's not going to keep worrying about it. He just lays his head in his pillow and makes sure there's enough lax in his hold for Stan to sleep comfortably. He actually considers pulling away so Stan can actually sleep, but he doesn't want to. That might be selfish, but fuck it. Craig's too mentally exhausted by this point to care. If Stan wants him to go away, then he'll say it, but until then, Craig is just going to stay there.**

Since Stan was still pretty tired, he fell asleep comfortably in Craig's hold - even though it was unusual. Really, he was used to snuggling, but usually he was the spooner, not the one being spooned. But this was sort of nice, and since he felt like Kyle and Kenny were making him the third wheel, he was feeling shitty enough that he needed to be held.

Around ten in the morning, he started to drift awake. "Ughhhhhnn…" He muttered as he reached out for his phone and checked the time. Wow, usually he didn't sleep in this late.

**Craig shuts his bedroom door just in time to hear Stan groan in his sleepiness. He watches for a second, inwardly laughing at Stan's sleep-wraggled appearance. Yep, bed-head, tangled clothes, the works. Stan was **_**out **_**last night. Before, Craig would have called him a pussy or something for not being able to handle his liquor, but now it's kind of… adorable. Or something.**

"**Great timing," he comments, approaching the bed. He crawls onto the bed and sits cross-legged a foot or two away from Stan. "My mom made pancakes this morning," he says, holding out a plate, a fork, and a thing of syrup.**

"**Don't worry, she doesn't know you're here, I just told her I was really hungry," he adds as an afterthought, wondering if Stan even cares if his family knows he's there or not.**

Turning over to look at Craig, he rolled his eyes slightly as he laid sprawled out on his back. "Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhnnn." He groaned as he realized Craig was bringing him breakfast. It made him a little uncomfortable that he was being 'doted' on, but really, he didn't want to look at food right now. It was probably one of the only times he didn't want to eat was after a drinking binge, but now he felt like he should eat just so Craig wasn't bitchy about him declining the food. Well, at least he didn't make it himself.

Pushing himself up into a cross-legged position, he looked at the pancakes and then glanced at Craig. "…no thanks." He then stared at Craig unblinkingly and said, "…I feel like hell still. I'm not hungry."

He reached up and ran a hand through his hair.

**Craig shrugged when Stan declined it bringing the food back into his own lap. "Fine, I'll eat it then," he says, digging the fork into the food. Really, he didn't expect Stan to take them anyway, because Craig never wanted to eat after a night like that either. And Craig always has room for more food, especially when it's sitting right in front of him. If he has to get up, though, normally he's too lazy to bother.**

**He eats silently for a minute before thinking that Stan might feel awkward just sitting there while Craig eats. "So uh… what are you doing today?" he asks, not really knowing how else to start a conversation. As far as Craig knows, they don't really have a lot in common other than… well, fucking.**

He lifted up his phone again, and then shot off a text or two before Craig said something again. "I thought I was going to stay here for the day, I don't know. I should probably go home and change Mellow's water and give her more vegetables..probably have to get Halftie to take her pain medications too, my parents don't remember that.." He sighed and then started pulling himself off the bed, looking around for his clothes.

"I kind of just want to lay around all day." He leaned back on the bed so he was flat on his back and then put a hand over his face as he muttered, "Wake me up for school tomorrow or something."

**Craig waits a minutes to respond, considering what he's going to say. He kind of wants Stan to stay, but then again, his pets need taken care of. He thinks about suggesting that Stan go home to take care of them and then come back, but that just seems… weird. In a clingy way. And Craig Tucker isn't clingy in any way, shape or form. Who cares if Stan goes home?**

"**If you want to go take care of your pets, then do it, but I don't have a problem if you want to stick around," he says. In all reality, he kind of wants to just keep laying in bed too, but that's all he's been doing for the past week or so because he's been sulking. But… he doesn't have a reason to sulk anymore, so why shouldn't they do something? Maybe they can do something, but a lazy something. Something you can just lay in bed for.**

"**You want to just lay there? Or do something else?" he asks. After a few short seconds, he adds, "Like watch TV or something." Goddamn, why does he always have to say things that sound like he's sex-deprived? Well, maybe he always says stuff like that, and just doesn't notice. Maybe the only reason he's noticing while talking to Stan is because he **_**thinks**_** about it with Stan.**

"Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhn." He groans again at Craig's question, thinking the other meant sex. Why did he always want something like that. Did he really want them to try and commit homicide from doing it so often that their hearts gave out? Really, Stan didn't mind - it was actually a change to actually go all the way instead of being blocked at the last minute, like he was with Wendy. And Stan had found he really, really enjoyed sex. Even if he would never admit he really enjoyed being on bottom.

When Craig reworded it, he removed the hand from his face and looked over at Craig, arching his neck to look at him.

"Yeah, tv's fine." He said after a moment, narrowing his eyes slightly. It wasn't because he was annoyed with Craig, but with himself- why did everything Craig say sound like he wanted to mess around? It had to be Stan's interpretation, which put him a little in the defensive mindset because he didn't want to think that he had a raging mancrush on Craig. He was still in denial about it, which was why he hadn't said anything about their relationship status. Craig shouldn't have this much power over him…ever. But why did he like it like that?

"What do you want to watch?"

"**Uhh…" Craig starts at Stan's question, not really having planned that far ahead. "I have some movies, but I was just going to turn the TV on and hope something interesting would be on," he admits. He's not sure Stan would like his movies anyway. He has a lot of cult hits and a lot of horror, and considering Stan is afraid of stupid zombies, he probably doesn't like horror either. Well, Craig has some B-Horror, which isn't actually scary, more like amusing, but either way, he thinks the TV would just be a safer bet.**

**He goes for his remote, but stops for a second. His remote is all the way over on his night stand, and that means he has to reach across Stan to get there. He decides that he hasn't been enough of a dick today anyway, and just keeps going. He crawls over the top of Stan, his knees almost touching Stan's head as he reaches for the remote. He manages to grab it and then retreats back to his sitting position. He flicks on the TV and asks, "So what kind of shows do you watch?" like he didn't just put anything inappropriate in Stan's face. No, that was totally an accident, of course he didn't do it on purpose.**

Stan was still sprawled out when Craig moved to get the remote, and he had moved his gaze back towards the ceiling because the head tilt he had been doing hurt a bit. So when he made eye contact with Craig's crotch, he narrowed his eyes and mumbled, "Fucker" rather apathetically, and then pushed himself up after he was no longer being air-assaulted by Craig's package.

Rubbing his left eye with his hand, he glanced over at the television and then back at his phone.

"Oh, shit, I keep forgetting about Mellow. Dude, she's supposed to have vegetables like twice a day because she's knocked up," He couldn't put it any more elegantly, since that was basically what happened. "I'm going to …uh…go. But I could.."

He paused awkwardly, and then said, "…come back?" As if it were a question, could he come back? Really, he wasn't sure what was going on still. It seemed sort of surreal that he and Craig were bonding on all levels. Somehow he felt like he should stop, but it was too addictive.

**Craig gives Stan a glance before turning back to his TV and flipping another station. "Yeah," he says, trying to make it casual. "You can come back whenever you want."**

**The statement really isn't as light as he's trying to make it seem, but he hopes that Stan will pick up on it and understand to not make a comment. Craig had pretty much just said that Stan could come around whenever he wanted, which is kind of a big thing considering that just a week ago, Stan was literally breaking in just to come over.**

**As a side thought, he also kind of wants to give him advice on Mellow, but he's only ever had male guinea pigs, so he doesn't actually know much more about pregnancy than Stan probably already does from Google. He hopes the pregnancy goes well, even if he doesn't want to keep any of the babies. After all, they're his baby's babies; he can't let them get hurt because Stan is an idiot.**

"Okay," Stan said after a moment, and then looked down at the floor from the edge of the bed. He waited for a moment before he said, "I'm going to have to put on my clothes but they're still wet… …and if your family sees me in yours.."

He really didn't want to be open about what had happened. For some reason it seemed ten times more embarrassing then walking out naked. But he had to leave anyways, and there was bound to be someone roaming the house on Sundays- it wasn't like the Tuckers were avid go-er outters, and he was pretty sure they'd be lurking by the tv or in the kitchen.

Maybe the conversation of what they were was unavoidable. …then again, maybe not.

"…is there a window I can climb out of?"

**Craig raises an eyebrow at the window comment. "Dude, you're not climbing out the fucking window. Just go downstairs and if they're in the living room, just say you're here for a school project or something. The only one that would care is Ruby, and she'll talk to me about it before she's starts anything, so fucking relax."**

**He glances at their piles of clothes on the floor and then back up to Stan. "And if you want to change, go ahead, it's not like I'm stopping you." He pauses for a second, thinking about the fact that this act requires Stan getting undressed and he'd probably not going to want to go to the bathroom to do it.**

"**I'll even look away because I'm nice like that and you're a woman and you're probably going to be shy about it even though I've already seen you naked more than once," he says, and then turns in his bed to lay down facing away from Stan. Oh, how he loves pushing Stan's buttons. Maybe this relationship… thing will be more entertaining than he'd originally thought.**

"Oh, fuck you," Stan scoffed as he got up from the bed, and walked over to Craig's dresser. He pulled open the first drawer, and noticed Craig's underwear. …Well, that shouldn't be awkward, considering he's seen it go off him before, but somehow it was. He stared at the other's intimates for a good minute before he decided to take a pair, and then a pair of socks, and then shut the drawer. Slipping off his night pants, he put on the socks and then the underwear, and then looked for jeans and put on those.

Walking over to his closet, he grabbed one of Craig's more frequently worn hoodies- just because he recognized it - and he tugged it on over his head. Then he put up the hood and went for the door. Before he got there however, he walked over to Stripe's pen and bent down to pet him gently on his head with one finger. Standing again, he walked to the door and opened it. "Oh fuck, my shoes," He said as he looked around, and spotted his shoes. He walked over and sat in the computer chair, and pulled them on.

"God, they're still wet," He muttered, and then looked at Craig. "You don't have to fucking turn away, you asshole."

**Craig turns back around when Stan mutters about his shoes and stares at him for a couple of seconds. For some reason, he likes the way Stan looks in his hoodie. Though, it **_**is**_** obviously Craig's hoodie.**

"**You're going to walk through town in what's quite clearly my hoodie? I don't really care, but I didn't think you'd want to scream, 'hey, I'm with Craig Tucker' so loudly."**

**He means it as a joke, but then he realizes that he's just said that they're together as a joke. What if Stan didn't take it as a joke? Or was offended by the fact that it was a joke? Or…**

**Well, this is a great way to bring up the topic, he supposes, because now Stan will have to respond. Even if it was an accident, Craig is still interested to hear what Stan will say to that. Depending on his answer, they might just figure out what they are.**

Stan actually had intended to take the hoodie off once he was past the Tucker family, but when Craig said it like that - actually implying that they were 'together', he was thrown off and his heart skipped a beat. For a split second, facing downwards, he looked mortified, but it slowly changed to an anxious expression, and then he realized he was gripping his shoelaces extremely tight. The hoodie smelled like Craig, and it was like he was being bombarded for a split second by what this all meant - him - Craig - …wearing Craig's hoodie, and his intimiates - were they…'together'? Did he just jump into a relationship after breaking up with Wendy after being together for six years? Not only that, did he jump into a relationship with Craig Tucker? And did he really put on Craig's underwear? Well yeah, it was kind of hot, and Stan wanted to see how - no, he couldn't think of that right now.

"…um.." Stan sat frozen with his shoelaces in hand, wondering if Craig had been watching his facial expressions.

"…I was going to take it off when I got outside." He said quietly, looking at his shoe and tying it firmly. Then he went to tie the other, hoping that Craig wouldn't point out he didn't actually deny or confirm his statement of whether they were together or not.

**Craig watches Stan for reactions, but can't really tell anything considering he can't see Stan's face from his angle. He does, however, see Stan's knuckles go slightly white with the vice grip he's got on his shoelaces. Is the idea that they might be together that upsetting? And to make it worse, Stan didn't even respond to the implied-maybe-relationship-status.**

**Though, he doesn't really understand why Stan is taking his hoodie at all if he's just going to take it off. He's a little put off by the fact that Stan seems to be upset about this, so when he questions it, it comes out a little quieter than he intended. He hopes he doesn't sound hurt, and he thinks he does a pretty damn good job at it. "Why are you wearing it if you're just going to take it off?"**

After he tied his other shoe, he looked up at Craig as the other spoke quietly. He was still frowning slightly, though he was trying not to, because he knew Craig probably would get upset with him looking slightly disgruntled by the suggestion that they were…together.

Finally breaking, he just put up his hands and said, "Okay, fine. I don't want to be together right now because I can't do that to Wendy - I just broke up with her after six years, I can't just jump into something else officially, okay? I just …I just want to wait like two weeks. Before making it like…I don't know.."

He was having a hard time actually saying that he wanted to be in an exclusive relationship with Craig, and he lowered his hands to his lap and glared off to the side.

Lowering his voice to the point of it almost being incoherent, he muttered, "Before being boyfriends or something."

"**Um…" Craig starts, not having been expecting Stan's explanation. "…I just wanted to know why you were taking my every day hoodie if you weren't even going to wear it."**

**He stops for a minute, trying to figure out how to respond to Stan's suggestion. That… actually sounds like a good idea. It sounds like a great idea.**

"**But yeah, I think so, too. We need some time to just… hang out and stuff to see if we can even do this before diving into something like 'boyfriends.' If we did that now, we'd be fucking stupid. Things never work out when they start that quickly."**

**He was going to say 'like with Kenny,' but that hurt to even think. Maybe the reason he and Kenny didn't work out was because they'd jumped right in after Craig had broken up with Tweek. They should have waited… but that's not important anymore. What's important right now is not fucking things up**_**again**_**.**

"**Yeah, so for now we can just be… two people that still hate each other but cuddle and kiss and stuff," he says, a crooked grin spreading across his face. What a fucking mouthful. But that's what they are, right?**

Remembering vaguely a lecture Garrison had awhile back, his eyes narrowed as he tried to recall what the lunatic said during his boring class about something like this. "…so we're frenemies.. …with benefits."

The idea was actually appealing, but Stan hated to sound like a whore - which to him was basically having sex without being in a relationship, even though he'd never tell Kenny that. It was just when it involved him it made it sound whorish, even if he did cheat on his girlfriend already. He couldn't prevent the disappointed look on his face when he thought of this plan, but inside he was actually appreciative they didn't have to leap head first into a relationship.

"Uhm.." He stood up from the chair, and started walking towards the door. With his hand on the door knob he looked at Craig. "I'll bring the hoodie back. You know, after I put a few cigarette burns in it."

"**Pff, did you just use the word 'frenemies?'" he asks, watching Stan walk toward the door. He supposes that's kind of a good word for it… but really? That's just a girl thing to say. Though Stan is pretty feminine sometimes, for a football player.**

"**Wait," he says, sitting up and hopping off the bed. He makes his way over to Stan and takes him by the chin, giving him a quick kiss. It was on impulse, but he figures that if they're going to be trying things out for a few weeks, he should try out whatever he wants, and he wants a good bye kiss. Even if Stan is coming back.**

"**And don't hurt my hoodie, dude, that's my favorite one and I haven't really figured out why I'm letting you take it yet, so don't make me regret it," he says, to make the good bye kiss seem unimportant. Though, it's true. That **_**is **_**his favorite hoodie, and he'd be upset if Stan actually burned it or something.**

"Dude." Stan said after Craig kissed him on the lips, looking up at the other like he had just assaulted him. He let Craig finish what he was saying, but still wore a really skeptical expression on his face.

"Really. A goodbye kiss. I'll be gone for like an hour. Do you want to kiss the hoodie too?" It was actually really sweet, but he was still adjusting, and acting like lovebirds was kind of a new level of freaky. With Wendy, it was fine, because…well, he was the one doing it, but having the roles reversed unnerved him a bit.

"No, I'm not going to do anything to it, Jesus Christ."

He turned to go, but then glanced back at Craig and reached out to ruffle his hair roughly with his free hand before he slipped out the door.

**Craig just rolls his eyes at Stan's words and then scrunches up his face when Stan ruffles his hair. What a bitch; Craig can't have a good bye kiss but Stan can fuck up his hair?**

"**If the hoodie is supposed to fool the 'rents, I'd pull the damn hood up," he says, trying to be quiet enough to not echo in the hall, before shutting his door.**

**Well that was certainly an interesting turn of events.**


	14. 05 20 2012

05.20.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **..hey

**Craig Tucker: **Hey

**Stan Marsh: **what's up?

**Craig Tucker: **Nothing, actually. Just fed stripe

**Stan Marsh: **that's really late

**Craig Tucker: **…they're nocturnal

**Stan Marsh: **…oh

**Craig Tucker: **How did you not know? I even told you

**Stan Marsh: **I forgot

**Stan Marsh: **mellow always sleeps at night

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **…Right, I'm not even going to comment on the level of your intelligence

**Stan Marsh: **asshole

**Stan Marsh: **something happened to your hoodie

**Craig Tucker: **What happened

**Stan Marsh: **well halftime jumped me when I let her in from the back and she was all wet and muddy

**Stan Marsh: **I'll wash it

**Craig Tucker: **Why did I let you take that thing again?

**Stan Marsh: **because I look better in it

**Craig Tucker: **No you don't

**Craig Tucker: **The only reason you'd look good in it is because it's mine

**Stan Marsh: **that's what you tell yourself huh?

**Craig Tucker: **…yep.

**Stan Marsh: **I'll give your stuff back washed at school tomorrow

**Stan Marsh: **by the way, your underwear is comfy

**Craig Tucker: **What

**Craig Tucker: **Why do you have that

**Stan Marsh: **I was wearing your clothes, why wouldn't I?

**Craig Tucker: **Dude

**Craig Tucker: **Why _would _you

**Stan Marsh: **What, is your underwear sacred or something?

**Craig Tucker: **No, but jesus, that's borderline creepy

**Stan Marsh: **is it?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, you took my boxers, what the fuck

**Craig Tucker: **And you're wearing them

**Stan Marsh: **…yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I assume they were clean, what's the big deal

**Craig Tucker: **I dunno dude, seems weird

**Craig Tucker: **…wait

**Craig Tucker: **You did it because you think it's hot

**Craig Tucker: **Oh my god

**Craig Tucker: **You're such a freak

**Stan Marsh: **yep

**Craig Tucker: **Don't try to blow it off, that's actually why you took them, isn't it?

**Craig Tucker: **That's some kinky shit right there, dude

**Stan Marsh: **no, that yep was serious

**Stan Marsh: **it's totally hot.

**Craig Tucker: **Dude why

**Craig Tucker: **Why would you do that

**Stan Marsh: **wouldn't you like to know

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, I would

**Stan Marsh: **so are you thinking about me in your boxers?

**Craig Tucker: **Well duh

**Craig Tucker: **You fucking stole them

**Stan Marsh: **yep

**Craig Tucker: **How many of my clothes do you have by now, anyway? You've got like half my damn closet

**Stan Marsh: **yep

**Stan Marsh: **pilfering everything you own one thing at a time

**Craig Tucker: **You're a dick

**Craig Tucker: **Why don't you just try bringing your own clothes with you when you come here?

**Stan Marsh: **give me a drawer and I might

**Craig Tucker: **Dude, just bring a bag with you like a normal person

**Craig Tucker: **You're not moving in, you're just sleeping over a lot, fuck

**Stan Marsh: **and lug it home? no.

**Stan Marsh: **..so, if we're like..

**Stan Marsh: **sort of together

**Stan Marsh: **do I have to tell you about where I am

**Craig Tucker: **…no? Not unless you're somewhere stupid

**Craig Tucker: **Why would I need to know?

**Stan Marsh: **what about if I go on trips, do I have to tell you that?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know, wendy wanted to know where I was or went

**Craig Tucker: **Well if you're going to disappear for an extended period of time, probably, yeah. You saw what happened with Tweek

**Craig Tucker: **Um

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, text me if you go on a trip

**Stan Marsh: **Kyle's birthday is coming up, me, Kyle and Kenny are going to go camping on the mountains to celebrate

**Craig Tucker: **Camping? Really? CAmping sucks, dude

**Stan Marsh: **yep

**Stan Marsh: **not when there's alcohol and bonfires involved though

**Craig Tucker: **You need to stop drinking so fucking much, you're going to kill someone one of these days

**Stan Marsh: **…what

**Stan Marsh: **whatever

**Craig Tucker: **Seriously, how many times have I already had to save you from drinking accidents?

**Craig Tucker: **It's not fucking smart

**Stan Marsh: **dude, you act like it's something new

**Stan Marsh: **kyle's been doing it for years

**Craig Tucker: **That's shitty

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Craig Tucker: **So why don't you stop?

**Stan Marsh: **because AA sucks

**Craig Tucker: **Fuck AA, just do it on your own

**Stan Marsh: **whatever

**Craig Tucker: **I could just beat you every time you drink, if that helps

**Stan Marsh: **Tried that already

**Stan Marsh: **…

**Stan Marsh: **um

**Stan Marsh: **no thanks

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, so then don't do it

**Stan Marsh: **look, I don't bitch about you smoking mary jay so don't get on my case about drinking

**Craig Tucker: **Weed isn't going to hurt me, idiot

**Stan Marsh: **whatever

**Stan Marsh: **I'm probably not going to drink that much anyways

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to make out or something with Kyle, Kenny would kill me if that happens for a second time

**Stan Marsh: **he'll start to think it's intentional

**Craig Tucker: **I totally knew you two were gay for each other, hahahahahahahahahaha that's rich

**Stan Marsh: **…what?

**Craig Tucker: **You do that when you're drunk?

**Stan Marsh: **..well, yeah.

**Craig Tucker: **You're so gay that it hurts

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not

**Craig Tucker: **If you say so

**Stan Marsh: **I just do it when I'm drunk

**Stan Marsh: **that doesn't count

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, okay, and what about me? And Kenny? And probably even Broflovski sober?

**Craig Tucker: **You're gay.

**Stan Marsh: **…..

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **how did you know about making out with him sober

**Craig Tucker: **Well, I didn't, but it was an educated guess that you just confirmed

**Stan Marsh: **goddamnit

**Stan Marsh: **I am not gay

**Craig Tucker: **Okay.

**Stan Marsh: **anyways.

**Stan Marsh: **I call Kyle sometimes when I'm wasted, so if he picks me up I don'tk now

**Stan Marsh: **just something you should know

**Stan Marsh: **wendy was okay with it

**Craig Tucker: **Why don't you just call me? That seems like a painfully obvious answer

**Craig Tucker: **…but we're not dating so I don't care

**Stan Marsh: **Because when I'm drunk I call Kyle, I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **next time I get wasted I'll write it on my phone to call you, let's see if that works

**Stan Marsh: **you don't care?

**Craig Tucker: **Alright

**Craig Tucker: **Well, why should I? It's not like you're mine or something.

**Stan Marsh: **so I could go make out with Kyle and you wouldn't care.

**Craig Tucker: **Um, should I?

**Stan Marsh: **..okay

**Craig Tucker: **No, answer the question, do you want me to care?

**Stan Marsh: **Do you want to?

**Craig Tucker: **That doesn't matter, because it's unjustified. I have no reason to care unless we're actually together

**Craig Tucker: **So I don't.

**Stan Marsh: **so I could go make out with Kyle then

**Craig Tucker: **Dude, you don't want me to me jealous anyway, I'd probably kill Kyle if I was

**Stan Marsh: **…..

**Stan Marsh: **that's a joke right

**Craig Tucker: **Why would I joke about that?

**Stan Marsh: **you do realize kyle is like my best friend ever, right

**Stan Marsh: **and threatening him is like, disgusting to me, right

**Craig Tucker: **Well, I was just letting you know since you're putting so much effort into making me jealous right now

**Stan Marsh: **am I?

**Craig Tucker: **That's why you keep pressing the fucking issue, yes

**Stan Marsh: **so there's an issue now?

**Craig Tucker: **And you deleted my fucking mysic because Iw as ignoring you for it; don't even get me started on jealousy

**Stan Marsh: **whatever

**Stan Marsh: **I wasn't jealous

**Craig Tucker: **Then why did you do it

**Craig Tucker: **Just to prove how much of a dick you are?

**Stan Marsh: **…yeah

**Craig Tucker: **Right

**Craig Tucker: **So if I went out and started fucking around with someone else, you wouldn't get jealous

**Stan Marsh: **It's not fucking it's drunken making out and neither of us enjoy it

**Craig Tucker: **Uh-huh. But that's not the point I'm making here

**Stan Marsh: **yes

**Craig Tucker: **You're saying you'd be jealous then

**Stan Marsh: **I'd have a problem with it

**Stan Marsh: **yes, I would be pissed off if you went out and fucked someone, Craig

**Craig Tucker: **I didn't say fuck, I said fuck around, but okay

**Craig Tucker: **And what would you do to this other person?

**Craig Tucker: **You'd probably hurt them, right?

**Stan Marsh: **…no

**Craig Tucker: **So me hurting Kyle would be justified.

**Craig Tucker: **What would you do then

**Stan Marsh: **…I don't want to say

**Craig Tucker: **Tell me.

**Stan Marsh: **no.

**Craig Tucker: **Why the fuck not?

**Craig Tucker: **It's not like you'd do anything worse than I would

**Stan Marsh: **you really want to know?

**Craig Tucker: **Yes.

**Stan Marsh: **I'd probably get in my truck and drive around listening to my 'fuck the world' CDs until I run out of gas, and then cry. No harming of other people involved.

**Craig Tucker: **dude, no, why

**Stan Marsh: **…you wanted to know

**Craig Tucker: **Well yeah, but I didn't think you'd say that. We're not even dating, I'm not worth crying over

**Stan Marsh: **well then don't go kill someone because I'm not worth a lifetime in jail for

**Craig Tucker: **…right, well, I think we're done with this conversation

**Stan Marsh: **…why

**Craig Tucker: **So how's Mellow doing

**Stan Marsh: **she's…fine?

**Craig Tucker: **That's good, considering she's pregnant and all

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Craig Tucker: **You know how to take care of the babies? They should be around in like two months

**Stan Marsh: **yeah, I know

**Craig Tucker: **At least you're informed now and you're not going to give them 20 carrots and iceburg lettuce

**Craig Tucker: **How did you not know that was bad?

**Stan Marsh: **it said lettuce online and that's all we had in the fridge, ok

**Stan Marsh: **I didn't read in between the damn lines

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, you normally don't

**Stan Marsh: **bastard

**Craig Tucker: **Yep

**Craig Tucker: **But you like me anyway, so whatever

**Stan Marsh: **..whatever

**Craig Tucker: **You're being really dismissive, dude. If you don't have anything to say, then I'm just going

to log off because this isn't even a conversation, it's just me talking

**Stan Marsh: **…..

**Stan Marsh: **what do you want me to say

**Stan Marsh: **this is how I talk to everyone on my list. wth.

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, you're the one that IMed me without a reason, and I don't really like talking when there's no real response, it just seems pointless

**Craig Tucker: **No wait, I remember why you IMed me now

**Craig Tucker: **You just wanted to tell me you stole my fucking boxers because you're a pervo dick

**Stan Marsh: **and you like it

**Craig Tucker: **No, now I'm just down a pair of boxers

**Stan Marsh: **god, I'll give them back

**Craig Tucker: **I don't want them back

**Stan Marsh: **really.

**Stan Marsh: **It's not the first time I've put something of yours on me.

**Craig Tucker: **Or in you

**Stan Marsh: **…yeah.

**Stan Marsh: **You're a son of a bitch

**Craig Tucker: **Why's that?

**Stan Marsh: **Because I was going to go to bed and now I'm going to have to look at porn

**Stan Marsh: **jackass

**Craig Tucker: **Hahahahaha really?

**Craig Tucker: **You liked it that much?

**Craig Tucker: **I could just come over

**Stan Marsh: **no.

**Craig Tucker: **Buz kill

**Stan Marsh: **yep.

**Craig Tucker: **Have fun by yourself then

**Stan Marsh: **jackass

**Craig Tucker: **You love it, you dick

**Stan Marsh: **not going to say I do

**Craig Tucker: **But you do

**Craig Tucker: **That's why you didn't say you don't

**Stan Marsh: **could be either or

**Craig Tucker: **Uh-huh, well I don't want to interrupt your porn time, so I'll let you go

**Stan Marsh: **no, really, stay

**Craig Tucker: **Why? So you can jack it to my AIM box?

**Stan Marsh: **..sure.

**Craig Tucker: **Fucking Hell, that's actually what you're doing, isn't it? Why don't you just ask for a picture, freak

**Stan Marsh: **no, I'm not, but now that I know you're thinking about it..

**Craig Tucker: **No, I'm reading xkcd

**Stan Marsh: **…you're reading what?

**Craig Tucker: **It's a webcomic

**Stan Marsh: **you read?

**Craig Tucker: **xkcd dot com/

**Craig Tucker: **It's just stupid jokes, I'm only reading it to pass the time

**Stan Marsh: **am I that boring?

**Craig Tucker: **No, I'm just waiting for you to give in and tell me you want to meet up

**Craig Tucker: **Passing time

**Stan Marsh:** t2 dot gstatic dot com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcT9c 2q2LVwSG9Y5 u42dmmhqxgfdc gEt3jXCNh7hHnl N_ArsK73GFA

**Craig Tucker: **Is that supposed to be some kind of code because I hate playing games. If you want to meet up, just fucking say so

**Stan Marsh: **t2 dot gstatic dot com/images?q=tbn:ANd9G cQLbFtfyXskj- MUOBmKVbCk -HPB3Y4PkJPJ bhZLiUMU7JAtc032aw

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, okay stop with the pictures

**Stan Marsh: **t0 dot gstatic dot com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcQBSFUlSe nGgh3sn8SvU ora1htv6XwQL hNx1S6mMdMIfz Zs7EMB1Q

**Craig Tucker: **You're like a middle school girl

**Stan Marsh: **wouldn't that make you a pedophile

**Craig Tucker: **Hm, probably.

**Stan Marsh: **interesting..

**Craig Tucker: **What? We fucked, if you're a middle school girl, that probably makes me a pedophile of some kind

**Stan Marsh: **that's gross

**Stan Marsh: **let's just..not talk about that

**Craig Tucker: **Why don't you want to talk about it? It happened

**Craig Tucker: **And you liked it

**Craig Tucker: **A lot, by the sounds you were making

**Stan Marsh: **that? no, we can talk about that.

**Stan Marsh: **Not the middle school girl pedophile thing, because that'll make me never want that to happen again.

**Craig Tucker: **Then don't act like a little girl, r-tard

**Craig Tucker: **You're the one that brought it up

**Stan Marsh: **whatever

**Stan Marsh: **…and why do you remember what sounds I was making

**Craig Tucker: **You were being pretty damn loud, it'd be hard not to remember

**Stan Marsh: **oh, I'm sorry. next time I'll wear a gag so I don't harm your delicate eardrums.

**Craig Tucker: **Hahaha, it wasn't harmful

**Stan Marsh: **sure

**Craig Tucker: **Do you _want_ to wear a gag? Because I'm not really into that, but whatever floats your boat, I guess

**Stan Marsh: **why not

**Craig Tucker: **Why am I not into it or why not get a gag?

**Craig Tucker: **If you want the truth, I kind of liked you're moans

**Stan Marsh: **you can still hear that with a gag

**Craig Tucker: **Not as clearly, but why are you pressing?

**Craig Tucker: **Are you actually into that kind of thing?

**Stan Marsh: **not really

**Craig Tucker: **Then why are you trying to cinvince me that gags aren't bad?

**Stan Marsh: **what are you into?

**Craig Tucker: **You know what I'm into

**Stan Marsh: **that's vague.

**Craig Tucker: **Do you really want a goddamned list? Isn't taht the kind of thing that's supposed to be found through experience?

**Stan Marsh: **then why are you asking me if I'm into gags?

**Craig Tucker: **Because you fucking brought it up

**Craig Tucker: **And I told you I didn't like them, and you were trying to tell me they aren't that bad

**Craig Tucker: **Maybe you should go to bed

**Stan Marsh: **why?

**Stan Marsh: **you're not there

**Craig Tucker: **Well, you told me nott o be

**Stan Marsh: **I've got a twin mattress, it's not that big

**Craig Tucker: **…so?

**Stan Marsh: **…you want to do it on a twin mattress

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Craig Tucker: **But you said you didn't want to go to bed unless I was there

**Stan Marsh: **If my mom or dad sees you in my room tomorrow morning, I'm going to get my truck taken away

**Craig Tucker: **Do they go in your room in the morning?

**Stan Marsh: **My mom sometimes opens the door

**Craig Tucker: **Then fuck

**Craig Tucker: **Guess you're not sleeping

**Stan Marsh: **guess not

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, do you really need me there or are you just being a dick?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't need you here, I just want you here. there's a difference.

**Stan Marsh: **don't worry about it

**Craig Tucker: **Goddamnit dude, why

**Craig Tucker: **If you want, I can sneak out in the morning

**Craig Tucker: **That's my only offer

**Craig Tucker: **And only because I'm dead tired and somehow that was cute

**Stan Marsh: **haha..

**Stan Marsh: **it's fine

**Stan Marsh: **okay, it's bothering me. You pin me naked against a bathroom wall and you think gags are kinky?

**Stan Marsh: **Like what?

**Craig Tucker: **What, do you want me to explain myself? Everything that happened in the locker room was a delusional game, anyway

**Craig Tucker: **But pinning you donw, I don't know, you like being dominated, and I kind of like dominating you

**Stan Marsh: **…..

**Craig Tucker: **It's fun and you know it

**Stan Marsh: **uh..

**Stan Marsh: **you like that?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Craig Tucker: **as far as I know, you don't consider it a bad thing

**Stan Marsh: **…ok

**Craig Tucker: **What

**Stan Marsh: **what?

**Craig Tucker: **Why are you asking so many questions about what I like and just saying "ok"

**Craig Tucker: **Like what the fuck do you want from me, I'm too tired to even think anymore

**Craig Tucker: **Is there something you want to know?

**Stan Marsh: **it just got…weird

**Craig Tucker: **What did?

**Stan Marsh: **the conversation

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to talk about being dominated

**Craig Tucker: **Really, because you're the one who brought it up

**Stan Marsh: **no, I just..nevermind

**Stan Marsh: **go to bed

**Craig Tucker: **Don't tell me what to do, why can't you talk about it

**Craig Tucker: **Is it really that much of a turn on?

**Stan Marsh: **…no

**Craig Tucker: **Liar

**Stan Marsh: **jackass

**Craig Tucker: **What if I just sat here and typed out all the different ways I can think of off the top of my head to pin you down

**Stan Marsh: **I'd sign off

**Craig Tucker: **So then you're lying about it

**Stan Marsh: **no, it's just annoying

**Craig Tucker: **Right

**Craig Tucker: **Since you're apparently annoyed anyway, I'm going to go to bed. Have fun sleeping with my hoodie

**Stan Marsh: **Sure

**Stan Marsh: **and your underwear

**Craig Tucker: **Ha

**Stan Marsh: **..are you really leaving

**Craig Tucker: **Well I was going to

**Craig Tucker: **Is that a problem?

**Stan Marsh: **..no, go ahead

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, there's no reason to type out the damn ellipsis unless you don't want me to go

**Stan Marsh: **no, go sleep

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, well am I supposed to say good night? Because my good bye kiss was apparently too much so I don't want to be the dick here, you know

**Stan Marsh: **do you want to go get taco bell?

**Craig Tucker: **Right now?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Craig Tucker: **Uh, sure?

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not that hungry

**Stan Marsh: **I want to go eat something, I don't know, I'm hungry

**Craig Tucker: **Sure, then

**Craig Tucker: **Do you want to just meet there, or?

**Stan Marsh: **want me to drive?

**Craig Tucker: **Won't your parents hear your car?

**Stan Marsh: **probably

**Craig Tucker: **Then lets just walk, I don't care

**Stan Marsh: **goddamnit it's supposed to be a short run

**Stan Marsh: **wth dude

**Stan Marsh: **haven't you ever gotten tacos in the middle of the night?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, okay drive. I was just trying to save you the trouble of getting yelled at, but whatever

**Stan Marsh: **are you really tired?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, but I could go for a taco, I guess

**Stan Marsh: **ok, be over in a few

* * *

After throwing his letterman on, Stan grabbed his keys and slipped on his boots. He was still wearing Craig's clothes, but he had set his boots on the air vent so they had dried off significantly. Starting up the truck and praying it didn't backfire, he slowly backed out and then drove over to Craig's. He had the music turned off, and the truck was decent enough - a few wrappers and books were thrown on the floor, but that was it. Actually, his truck was probably only a bit less gross then his living conditions of his room, so it was really a tossup whether Craig would think it was a pigsty or normal.

Checking the rearview mirror and side mirrors, he glanced around as if he thought someone might be watching them this late at night. Who knew.

**Craig doesn't bother waiting before finding a less-worn hoodie and heading outside. He doesn't even bother grabbing anything but his house key and then goes to stand outside. How else would he know when Stan got there? Honking? Ha!**

**When Stan pulls up to the curb, Craig climbs in. He feels weird being in the passenger seat since normally he's the driver, but he doesn't really have time to be bothered about that before he sees how messy Stan's car is.**

"**You know, with as often as you shower, I'd think your living spaces would be a little cleaner," he comments. Though he's not really bothered too much by it, it's more of an absent comment. He's more concerned with the fact that Stan was complaining about being tired and then suddenly wanted tacos. Something tells Craig that they're not going to actually be eating any tacos.**

"**So is this some kind of midnight booty call, because bullshit you want tacos," he says. He wasn't actually planning on getting any from Stan tonight, but like Hell he'd turn it down. Now that he's admitted to himself that he likes Stan, sex is just an added bonus. Besides, the idea of doing something in the Taco Bell bathroom, or even in Stan's truck, is kind of exciting.**

Stan put the truck in drive, rolling his eyes. Really, he just hated cleaning - he didn't dislike taking care of himself. They were completely different realms of cleanliness, in his opinion. But he didn't bother to explain it to Craig, and when the other asked about a midnight booty call - he ignored that too.

They drove for a few minutes towards Taco Bell, and then he pulled off onto another street, towards the high school. Once they had pulled into the parking lot, he turned off the truck and then looked over at Craig, his face barely visible from the dim lights illuminating the parking lot. He almost thought of checking his phone because he felt it buzzing in his pocket, but he decided he didn't want to be bothered and instead ignored that too. Well, for now.

Reaching down to unbuckle his seat belt, he crawled over towards Craig and then started unfastening the other's jeans.

**Craig doesn't comment when he notices that they're not actually going to Taco Bell. He saw it coming anyway, and there's no way he's going to complain about it.**

**When they stop in the school parking lot, he wonders if Stan is trying to be ironic because this whole weird thing they have started in the locker room, but again he doesn't say anything. When Stan reaches over for his jeans, he doesn't protest, He's not sure what exactly Stan wants, so he'll just have to wait and find out.**

**Really, right now Craig is up for anything. He might be tired, but it's been a week since he last had any kind of sex, and he missed it. And he missed it with Stan specifically, which is annoying. Sure he'd asked Stan if he'd get mad if Craig messed around, but he doesn't really want to mess around. He likes the way Stan feels and all that gay stuff.**

When his phone dinged again, he started to become agitated. God, who was IMing him this late? He really needed to learn how to turn the phone off if he was going to go on a night run. Working the other's zipper open, he started to move over - bending down in the front of the passengers seat so he was level with Craig. Then he reached over and pulled the seatbelt down, which Craig had forgotten in the first place - and he fastened it.

Looking Craig in the eyes as he did so, he said rather plainly, "So you're restrained. Because really, I want my hands free."

Sinking down into the small area where Craig's legs were, he pushed them apart and then reached inside of Craig's pants, taking him in his hand. Really, his next sentence was more to irritate Craig, but it was partially because he wanted the other to be turned on.

"It's not a taco, but I guess it'll do."

**Craig resists making some form of gay joke when Stan says it's not a taco because really, how perfect a set up is that? But as soon as Stan takes him in his hand, he doesn't care about the joke anymore. All he cares about is the fact that Stan is about to give him head again.**

**In the back of his mind, he wonders if Stan had really liked it enough to **_**want**_** to do it, because Craig never understood that. He hates giving head, not that he's bad at it, but he just doesn't like it. But Stan called Craig out here, and the first thing he does is go for Craig's dick.**

**He pets a hand through Stan's hair before weaving his fingers into it. Hey, if Stan likes it though, the more power to him. Craig will enjoy every last damn second of it.**

Maneuvering Craig out of his pants far enough that it revealed Stan's target, he placed his hand on the underside - slipping his way back to cup Craig's balls. Then he moved forwards, almost becoming invisible in the darkness as he moved to wrap his lips around Craig's part. His tongue traced the contours of the other, moving around as if it had a mind of its own. At the same time, he moved his free hand to Craig's right hip - he didn't fully trust the seatbelt had him restrained, and plus, he could tell the last time that spot made the other respond. He pressed into him hard with his fingers, not using the nail - but hard enough that Craig would more than likely notice the pressure.

**He's surprised when Stan just gets right into it. He never expected Stan to be the lets-just-have-a-quickie type, but apparently that's what this is. Straight to the point. But he's not complaining; fuck no he's not complaining.**

**He lets his head fall back against the head rest when Stan starts to work his tongue. "Fuck, Stan," he breathes out when Stan presses his fingers into his hip. The little bastard caught onto that, did he? Stan learns quick, Craig has to give him that. And he's definitely glad for the added aid of the seat belt; he doesn't think he'd be able to hold himself back without it.**

So his guess about Craig's hip was correct - he had to refrain from smiling, because he didn't want to accidentally bite down on Craig.

When he starts moving back and forth, Craig had to notice that there was something different. Yes, Stan was taking him in further than before, and even further, until it surely should have been doing something to aggravate his gag reflex. Instead, he continued to do the movements, wanting the other to squirm in the seat as he pressed against his hip bone with intensity.

**Craig bites down on his lip to keep from making any further noises. His breathing is becoming a little erratic, though, so breathing though his nose probably isn't the best idea. But fuck, if he doesn't keep biting down… he doesn't even know.**

**Craig notices how far Stan is taking him in, and it makes him shudder. Doesn't Stan have horrible vomit control? How can he even do that? But he's doing it alright, and he's doing a damn good job of it. All of his muscles strain with the effort it takes to not buck against the seat belt.  
He tightens his grip in Stan's hair and grips the seat near his leg, just to have something else to hold onto.**

**After a while of repressed groans and white knuckles, he finally feels like he's about to hit his end. "Mm… Close…" is all he can manage to say.**

"Mmm-hmmm," Stan hummed in acknowledgement, as if he were belittling Craig's warning. It added little annoyance probably, since the humming would only add to the sensations he was giving Craig right now. He pressed harder on Craig's hip, and then used his finger to stroke the area of Craig's manhood he didn't have in his mouth.

**If Stan would have disregarded him like that at any other point in Craig's life, he probably would have punched the asshole, but at the moment, that little hum did wonders for his pleased nerve endings. With Stan's added stimulation, and the more severe pressure on his hip, Craig only lasts a few more moments before he releases.**

**He detangles his hand from Stan's hair, which he hadn't really noticed he'd wound so tight, and keeps his head leaned back against his seat, trying to catch his breathing.**

"**Fuck Stan, where did that even come from?" he asks, genuinely curious. Even if he'd expected they might screw around instead of eat, he didn't expect Stan to be that… well, eager about it.**

Instead of spitting out the aftermath, Stan swallowed, even though in his head he was thinking how damn gross it was as he did it. Not that he minded, really, he did a lot to Wendy too, and it wasn't all making out. With a casual look on his face, he moved to return to his seat, now bothered by the fact he had felt his phone go off multiple times. He was kind of worried that it might be his mom saying his dad had a heart attack, or something happened to Kyle - or that Wendy might have done something.

When he opened the phone and found the source of the buzzes, his face didn't show any emotion for a few minutes as he read. By the end though, he had sunk into the driver's seat, one hand cradling the phone in his palm so he could continue to read, the other covering his mouth. Eventually the hand holding the phone up sunk into his lap, and he let the light go out as he stared at the steering wheel, still covering his mouth.

**Craig tries really hard not to enjoy the fact that Stan just ingested his come, because he thinks that's a really weird thing to be enjoying, but he just lets it go. When he calms himself down for the most part, he realizes that Stan never responded to his question.**

**He looks over to Stan to make some kind of sarcastic remark about returning the favor, but when he sees Stan, he stops short. Why does he look so… distraught? "Dude, what's wrong?" he asks, feeling a hole opening in the pit of his stomach. He doesn't like the look on Stan's face **_**at all**_**. "What is it?" he asks again, reaching a hand across the gear shift to touch Stan's arm. He would get closer, but he doesn't think they could both fit in one of the seats.**

"It's…nothing," Stan said after a moment, a good full thirty seconds after Craig touched his arm. At this point, any feeling of arousal he had figuratively went up in smoke. He reached over for the ignition and twisted the keys hanging there. The phone was still in his lap however, and when he moved to shift the car into drive the phone fell beneath the wheel. He stopped, hearing the engine humming as he looked down underneath the wheel where the phone was dangerously close to the brake pedal. Definitely was a driving hazard.

Instead of picking it up, he again leaned back in his seat, and stared blankly at the wheel. It was as if he had shut off in the process of thinking about something, which wasn't far from the truth. He looked over at Craig, and then back at the wheel, and then said, "You should probably drive."

"**Um… yeah, okay," he says after a moment, staring at Stan intently. Whatever just happened was definitely really bad. It doesn't even look like Stan is functioning. He wants to do something to make Stan feel better about whatever this is, because the hole in his stomach is getting deeper and deeper as every second passes, but he somehow doesn't think a hug would be appropriate. Or really any kind of contact, and he's not sure why he's starting to get anxious.**

**He turns and opens his door to get out, to go over to Stan's side and get in. When he opens Stan's door, he sees that Stan has already crawled over to the other seat, so he just gets in. He thankfully notices Stan's phone beneath the brake pedal before he puts the truck in drive. That's bad to have sitting there.**

**He reaches down to pick it up and the screen turns on when he accidentally hits a button. He normally wouldn't look at someone else's phone, but he happens to catch Kenny's name on the screen.**

…**oh God, what did Kenny say that has Stan this fucked up? Craig is extremely tempted to look, but he eventually manages to just give the phone back to Stan. He sits there for a second, feeling his anxiety get even worse now that he knows it has something to do with Kenny. He shifts the truck into gear and slowly starts to pull out of the parking lot. He really wants to ask what's wrong, but he doesn't think Stan will answer him if he does.**

**He drives them back to Stan's house and parks the truck where he thinks it belongs. He looks over at Stan again and wonders what he should do. Should he stay the night and make sure he's okay? He can always sneak out really early in the morning and walk home.**

"**We're here," he says, in case Stan didn't notice.**

The whole drive home, Stan couldn't stop thinking about what Kenny sent. He really was a godawful friend. Not only to Kenny, but to Kyle - for other reasons, but they were still there. And he completely destroyed his relationship with Wendy, even though she had been patient with him - even though everyone else thought she was a bitch, she was always nice to him. Well, for the most part anyways. And he had completely trampled everyone's feelings for his own, which he wasn't even sure about. He was feeling internally confused, and for most of the ride he stared out of the window, watching the traffic lights pass, and then when they reached their destination, he looked over at Craig with a sideways glance. He turned on his phone and handed it back to him; it was still on Kenny's text. After all, it was sort of weird to just go mute and zone out.

**Craig takes the phone from Stan, a bit hesitant because he's not really sure he wants to read what put Stan in this kind of mode. But he takes it and, with a deep breath, begins to read the messages.**

_**- stan**_

_**- i dont know if you're there or not**_

_**- and i want you to know that this is the last time im ever going to talk about this.**_

_**- fuck you. fuck you so fucking hard. you fucking ruined my trust, just in general! fuck you. it's not fucking fair. I wanted to be with Craig. I wanted to be happy. Am I not supposed to be happy? I don't care if you, like, fucking didn't have that in mind when you did all those things. But fuck! Twice! the first time, sure, i undertand fucking the hunger, but the whole 'chemistry' thing… That's bull shit. never do that to anyone again, especially not someone who's supposed to be your best friend. Like, fuck! Is this payback for the whole suicide thing? Really dude? Whatever though, It's not very cool of you. He's all yours. Are you happy now, Stan? I hope you are, because the shit you put me through, mentally, is fucking pissing me off. I can't get over it, and even though I've 'moved on', it still feels like.. I haven't done so. Ugh! Why did you have to lie? it would have made it 129931857837 times better if you just admitted to me that you wanted him! or something to that affect! but you had to be all 'oh**_

_**- yeah i fucking hate his guts yeah i hate craig so much dont date him'. The fuck, dude? Seriously. Anyways, I hope that whatever you do with him now, that I don't come around, and mess with your feelings. Because i'm seriously considering just completely wrkecking your next relationship.**_

**By the time Craig is done reading, he doesn't even know what to do. So many thoughts are running through his head. Why is Kenny so mad at Stan and not at Craig? Has Stan been getting this shit from Kenny this whole time? He thought Kenny said he moved on; why is he still so upset? About a million other things are running through his head as well that he doesn't really know how to deal with.  
He thinks the worst part about it all, though, is the fact that he wants to stay here and comfort Stan instead of going to Kenny to comfort him.**

"**Yeah, um…" he mumbles, handing the phone back to Stan. He really doesn't know what to do. He doesn't think he can walk home now, and he doesn't think Stan will invite him inside after that. Maybe Stan won't notice if Craig just passes out in the truck, because that's what he's about to do when Stan leaves. What the fuck is Craig supposed to do? Why is everything so shitty? Why did Craig have to fuck everything up so bad?**

…**why can't he just be with who he wants to be with and not have it fuck over one of his best friends?**

"I'm going to…go in," Stan said after a minute, looking off at the dashboard as he held the phone in his hand, not daring to turn it on again. He didn't want to see those messages again, god no. Opening the passenger side, he looked in at Craig and then said, "You can come in if you want…"

It was an offer that he really did want to make. After all, the only one who really understood what he was going through was Craig, and he just wanted to be next to him and forget everything else for at least a day. But school was tomorrow, and he really didn't know what he'd do if he had to look at Kenny.

"…it's not true, by the way," He said quietly as he looked at his phone. "I told him to go with you and I just said I wasn't going to be nice to you just because he was dating you, it wasn't that bad…" Right now, it seemed like a really horrible thing to say. He really wondered if Kenny had offed himself tonight, which only added to his inner misery.

**Craig just sits there silently for a while, still trying to absorb Kenny's anger. They both completely fucked Kenny over, there's no way around it.**

"**I don't care what you said," he says, trying to make any kind of light of this situation that he possibly can. "We're huge dicks to each other all the time; I would have been more concerned if you would have told him I was a good guy."**

**He shuts off the ignition and turns to get out of the car in acceptance of Stan's offer to stay. All he really wants is to lay in Stan's bed for a while and try to forget that they're such giant assholes. He's probably going to skip school the next day… again.**

Stan pulled his house keys out of his pocket and let himself inside, leaving it open for Craig - who he wasn't sure if he was following him or not. Tossing the keys on the table next to the door, he walked up the steps and took off his letterman and threw it on a clothes pile nearest to the door. Muttering something that sounded like, "Goodnight Mellow," He walked over to his bed and crawled on it, and then curled up under the covers nearest to the window, his eyes still open. He probably wouldn't sleep, and he had no choice but to go in tomorrow - both Kyle and Wendy would kill him if he made them fail the assignment by not showing up. He couldn't do that.

**Craig just follows Stan upstairs and into his room, lagging behind a little bit. Stan is already curled up on his bed by the time Craig enters the room. He kicks off his shoes, not having worn boots, thankfully, and makes his way over to Stan's bed. He doesn't notice the piles of shit this time, or even how small Stan's bed is. He just slips under the covers with Stan and holds him close. This night turned out to be shitty, no matter how good it may have started off. Just… **_**everything**_** is fucking shitty.**

**Except for this weird thing he has with Stan. Somehow, that's the only thing that's been working out through all of this, and it's the thing he expected to fall under first.**

"**I don't know how long I'll stay," he mumbles, burying his face in the back of Stan's hair, just to be closer, so that more of them is touching. He's already perfectly spooned against Stan's back side, so he's not really sure how much closer they can get. "I don't want you to get in trouble with your mom or something."**

"Just shut up and stay," Stan demanded quietly, partially relieved when Craig moved closer to him. He didn't want Craig to leave, because that meant he had to be alone in his misery. At least right now they were jointly at fault so they could jointly cuddle and get over it. Well, almost…Stan was pretty sure he would never get over this moment. Maybe Kenny would, some day, but he would always think of himself as the shitty godawful friend who cheated on his girlfriend and made out with his SBF when drunk.

"She'll probably just knock on the door…that's most mornings."

He knew she occasionally opened the door, but she usually walked away after doing so, so in that case Craig could probably hide before she came back and yelled at Stan to wake up.  
Moving his hand to Craig's arm, he left it resting there as he dozed off.

"**Mmm," Craig agrees, glad that Stan said he could stay. He doesn't think he'll even wake up at this point, so leaving might have been a problem. And Craig already plans on skipping school, so he can just hide out until everyone in Stan's house leaves or something… he doesn't know. And really, he doesn't care. Right now he cares about how shitty he feels, and how shitty Stan probably feels, and how the heat they're sharing between their bodies is somehow making it a little better. Not a lot, but it releases enough of the pain to let Craig fall asleep.**

At a quarter to six, Sharon opened the door to Stan's room but didn't bother going in. She had heard him come in late last night and was a little more than irritated with him. After everyone had left, a large graying german shepherd waddled into the room, and then immediately stopped and wagged her tail happily at seeing a mound in bed. Her eyesight was going though, so she really thought Craig was Stan, and stood there smiling for awhile before she tried walking over to the bed and leaning on the side, sniffing Craig. Realizing it wasn't Stan, she whined slightly, like someone had replaced her boy.

Stan heard her whining and then muttered something quietly, and got out from the other side of the bed after wriggling his way out of Craig's cuddle. He walked groggily around the bed and leaned down to give Halftime a hug, and then itched behind her ears as he said, "Good morning girl, let's go get you something to eat," He stood up and walked out of the room, not bothering to check if Craig was awake. Really, he didn't think he would be up at this hour anyways, why even try?

After rummaging through the cupboards, he brought out the crepe maker and started collecting the ingredients for it. He was half-asleep, and usually when he was half asleep, he really didn't want anyone to talk to him - he just wanted to do something mechanically and daze out. Which, essentially was cooking, even though he didn't tell many people he liked to cook and bake. Once he was done with the crepes, he put chunks of glazed ham, scrambled eggs and cheese inside. Making two plates, he looked down at the rest of the ham he had taken out of the fridge to an anxious Halftime, who had been watching him ever since he took it out of the fridge.

He grabbed the plates and then walked back upstairs, and kicked open the door with his foot.

"Wake up," He said unenthusiastically, and walked over to his computer chair and sat down to eat his crepe.

**Craig just mumbles something incoherently and rolls onto this his stomach to hide his face from the light in the room. Why does Stan have a thing for waking Craig up at ungodly hours of the morning?**

"Dude, we're already missing first hour. Wake the fuck up." Stan said as he got up from his chair, obviously Craig wasn't going to grab the plate from him. Moving over to the side of the bed, he put the plate next to him on the bed.

"I can't miss fourth, that dumb project is due today. So I'm going in a half an hour."

He heard Halftime going down the steps, and he could barely see Mellow's nose peeking out from her little wooden hut when he checked. It seemed like everything in the house was awake except for Craig.

"Jesus Christ you're like a fucking bear." He sat on the edge of the bed and picked up his crepe and bit into it, and grumbled, "Why okay, Craig, you can totally hibernate in my bed until hell freezes over."

**Craig doesn't move while Stan moves around and eventually sits on the bed. He's slowly starting to wake up more, but he still just wants to lay there. "Not going to school, anyway," he says, trying to not be muffled by the pillows.**

**He turns his head to the side that Stan had been previously occupying and says, "Come here for a second."**

"Dude, I'm eating. What do you want." Stan said grumpily, not too happy he had forgotten to wash at all the night before after what they had been doing. For some reason this was the best breakfast crepe he had in his life, so it was probably because it was overriding the taste of other things lingering in his mouth.

"Just eat your damn crepe. Uh, my mom usually comes back by noon so you might want to like, leave before then." He bit into the crepe again, half-finished as he got up from the bed and walked over to his dresser to fish out some clean pants. It was a rarity to find them in there, but he had actually tried to clean earlier in the week in between drinking.

**Craig rolls onto his back and shoots Stan a tired glare. "Don't be such a bitch about it, just come the fuck here," he says, trying to sound more annoyed than sleepy, but it doesn't really work. Really, Craig is the exact opposite of a morning person, and he doesn't handle his mornings well. Normally he just zombies his way through his house and hopes he makes it to school without driving off the side of the road.**

Setting his plate on the dresser top, he slips off Craig's jeans and then put on his own. He still kept on Craig's boxers though. Looking for a clean shirt, he said, "Just wait a goddamn minute," He said crossly as he switched shirts, not bothering to leave the room. Why would he? Grabbing the plate off the dresser, he walked back over to the bed and laid down next to Craig, moving his plate over closer to him so he could have room to finish his crepe.

"What do you want?" He asked again, wondering if Craig was going to start something. Really, he wasn't exactly in the mood for anything sexual…even if he could go for a hug.

**Once Stan lays next to him, Craig drapes an arm over the other's back and pulls him in close, avoiding knocking Stan's food onto the bed. "You don't have to sound all pissed off; all I wanted was to say good morning," he mumbles, giving Stan a weird kind of morning hug. The top half of his body is half on Stan and his head rests on the back of Stan's shoulder. He closes his eyes despite his efforts to wake himself up. He tries to will himself to sit up, figuring that this hug has lasted long enough, but he really doesn't want to. He just wants to lay there and sleep more.**

Sighing, he dragged the plate over when Craig pulled on him, and continued to eat as the other mumbled and then almost passed out on his shoulder. After he finished, he glanced over at Craig and then shook him slightly, and said quietly, "Dude, I'm going to go to school." Then he moved the other so he was lying on his side again, and he planted a light kiss on Craig's forehead. Sliding off the edge of the bed, he took his plate - leaving Craig's still on the bed - and he walked off out the door.

**Maybe an hour later, Craig finally wakes up. He sits up and tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes. After a minute, he notices the plate of food sitting next to him that he somehow didn't knock over while asleep. He picks it up without question and all but inhales it. He's goddamn hungry, and even though it's cold by now, it's still pretty good. Did Stan make those crepes?**

**When he's done, he doesn't really know what to do with the plate. He can't just leave it sitting on Stan's bed; that'd just be gross. He stands off the bed and stretches out, satisfied with his sleep and his full stomach. He checks to make sure his keys are still in his pocket, puts on his shoes, and heads out the door. He drops his plate off in the kitchen sink before heading home.**


	15. 05 21 2012

05.21.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **hey craig..

**Craig Tucker: **What's up

**Stan Marsh: **what are you doing?

**Craig Tucker: **What am I normally doing at 11 at night

**Craig Tucker: **Nothing

**Stan Marsh: **ah

**Stan Marsh: **I talked with Kenny and Kyle

**Craig Tucker: **What about

**Stan Marsh: **about us

**Craig Tucker: **And?

**Craig Tucker: **What did they say?

**Stan Marsh: **Kyle's sort of okay with it, and he says ignore that he doesn't like you

**Stan Marsh: **and kenny's not okay with it

**Craig Tucker: **…of course Kenny's not okay with it, I read those texts

**Craig Tucker: **I don't even know what to do about it

**Stan Marsh: **you're friends with kenny right

**Craig Tucker: **Like I want him to be happy, but I can't do that for him

**Stan Marsh: **maybe we should just stop.

**Craig Tucker: **Do you _want_ to stop?

**Stan Marsh: **no.

**Stan Marsh: **but my friends mean a lot to me and I can't do that to them.

**Craig Tucker: **…do whatever you want.

**Stan Marsh: **what does that mean

**Craig Tucker: **It means if you want to stop, then fucking stop because I'm not going to say anything

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Craig Tucker: **What

**Stan Marsh: **everything makes less sense when I'm plastered

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to stop but every fucking other day I've gotten shit from kenny about this

**Stan Marsh: **and kyle isn't too happy but he said he'd get over it and now they're all hanging out and I'm pretty sure eventually they'll just stop talking to me

**Stan Marsh: **I can't stand this

**Craig Tucker: **Kenny I understand, but as your friends they don't really have a right to tell you who you can and can't be with. They should just want you to be happy and get the fuck over it

**Craig Tucker: **Goddamn, I had this same fucking conversation with Kenny at the beginning of that relationship, too

**Craig Tucker: **Why does every fucking one think I'm abusive or something

**Stan Marsh: **…what

**Stan Marsh: **haha everyone thought wendy was abusive

**Craig Tucker: **Seriously, every time I'm in a relationship with someone, their friends tell them how much of a douche bag I am and how they shouldn't date me

**Stan Marsh: **no, craig

**Stan Marsh: **I'm pretty sure kyle just dislikes you because you're a douchebag, not abusive

**Stan Marsh: **and Kenny is pissed because I stole his boyfriend, not because you're abusive

**Stan Marsh: **so you're good this time

**Stan Marsh: **Totally different reasons

**Stan Marsh: **you know Kenny's into bondage?

**Craig Tucker: **Right, well since your friends hate me so much we should just stop then, because it's totally up to them right

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Stan Marsh: **it's up to me

**Stan Marsh: **I just don't want to be official for awhile

**Stan Marsh: **I kind of want you to go camping with us

**Stan Marsh: **because they're sharing a stupid tent

**Stan Marsh: **and you know it's going to be fucking awkward

**Craig Tucker: **I thought we weren't official anyway

**Craig Tucker: **And why would I go camping with two assholes that hate me

**Craig Tucker: **Well, Kenny's not an asshole

**Stan Marsh: **for me, or am I one of those assholes

**Craig Tucker: **But he still hates me

**Craig Tucker: **ugh, you would say that

**Craig Tucker: **Fine, dick, I'll go

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **you can't

**Stan Marsh: **I told Kenny I wouldn't invite you

**Stan Marsh: **I just mean I want you to go

**Craig Tucker: **Then why did you do it, what the fuck

**Stan Marsh: **what

**Craig Tucker: **Why did you invite me if I can't go anyway

**Stan Marsh: **dude, I'm just saying I want you to be there even if you can't be

**Stan Marsh: **it's supposed to be sweet

**Craig Tucker: **The sweetest

**Stan Marsh: **did you ever eat the goddamn crepe

**Stan Marsh: **or did you throw it out

**Craig Tucker: **Why would I not eat it after my perfect little housewife went through the trouble of making it for me

**Stan Marsh: **….you're a douchebag

**Stan Marsh: **fine

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not making you anything ever again

**Stan Marsh: **also, you're sleeping on the mother fucking couch next time

**Craig Tucker: **Hey, I didn't say it was a bad thing

**Craig Tucker: **It was _"sweet"_

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Stan Marsh: **I'm just going to chug these last two bottles

**Stan Marsh: **maybe it'll knock me out

**Craig Tucker: **Dude, what the fuck

**Craig Tucker: **Stop drinking so much or you're going to get fucking alcohol poisoning

**Stan Marsh: **that's what I'm going for

**Craig Tucker: **Fuck you

**Stan Marsh: **yep

**Craig Tucker: **If you don't stop fucking drinking all the time, then I'm not going to cuddle you to sleep anymore

**Craig Tucker: **So pick one

**Stan Marsh: **how about I just not tell you I'm getting shitfaced

**Craig Tucker: **How about you not lie

**Stan Marsh: **that's not lying

**Stan Marsh: **it's withholding the truth

**Stan Marsh: **there's a difference

**Craig Tucker: **Then I'll just assume you're doing it, asshole

**Stan Marsh: **my life is hell right now. just let me do this once a day and I'll be fine in a month

**Craig Tucker: **You won't be fine if you're fucking dead, Christ

**Stan Marsh: **I'm sure there's accommodations in hell

**Stan Marsh: **garrison is going to fail me and I'm not going to get a football scholarship. There. are you fucking happy?

**Craig Tucker: **Why would he fail you?

**Stan Marsh: **and let's not talk about how mellow stopped eating

**Craig Tucker: **What

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **I'm taking her to the vet tomorrow

**Craig Tucker: **I would offer to go with you, but that would be like… I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **Seems too personal

**Stan Marsh: **whatever

**Stan Marsh: **we technically cheated on the assignment

**Craig Tucker: **Would you even want me to go? And what assignment?

**Stan Marsh: **kyle reprogrammed the kids to learn all six words because either wendy and kyle would have passed and I failed or the other way and they wouldn't do it

**Stan Marsh: **that stupid baby assignment

**Stan Marsh: **I'm pretty sure he's going to fail all three of us for that but I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **yeah, sort of. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing.

**Craig Tucker: **…fuck, I never even picked up the baby

**Stan Marsh: **…

**Stan Marsh: **are you serious

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **you do realize that if one person didn't participate all three failed right

**Craig Tucker: **Um, when is the assignment due?

**Stan Marsh: **it's done

**Craig Tucker: **Oh.

**Stan Marsh: **it was due today

**Craig Tucker: **then fuck.

**Stan Marsh: **ugh…

**Stan Marsh: **maybe wendy will flip her shit and get garrison to drop the assignment

**Craig Tucker: **Wouldn't she have already done that today?

**Stan Marsh: **not if he fails us

**Stan Marsh: **he hasn't said anything

**Craig Tucker: **…well I guess my grade is fucked but whatever

**Craig Tucker: **About Mellow

**Craig Tucker: **Do you want me to go with you?

**Stan Marsh: **yes

**Craig Tucker: **When are you going?

**Stan Marsh: **after school

**Craig Tucker: **Specific

**Craig Tucker: **But okay, do you want me to drive since your truck probably can't fit a another human being _and_ a cage?

**Stan Marsh: **Like right after school

**Stan Marsh: **sure

**Craig Tucker: **Okay

**Stan Marsh: **just say it

**Stan Marsh: **I'm a horrible owner

**Craig Tucker: **Why does it have anything to do with you?

**Craig Tucker: **Pigs get sick all the time

**Craig Tucker: **As much as I'd like to blame you, it's probably not actually you

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Craig Tucker: **what

**Craig Tucker: **I just said it's probably fine

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to put her down

**Craig Tucker: **You're not going to have to, it's probably just something stressing her out

**Stan Marsh: **I hate being drunk

**Craig Tucker: **Like I said, don't do it then

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, let me help you out here

**Craig Tucker: **Why do you drink so much?

**Stan Marsh: **because I'm a drunk.

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, right, but _why_

**Stan Marsh: **because I have an addiction to alcohol.

**Craig Tucker: **You're a dick, why are you making this so hard

**Craig Tucker: **Oaky, what makes you want to drink

**Craig Tucker: **You need to find some other kind of fucking hobby or something

**Stan Marsh: **because life is one collective pile of shit.

**Craig Tucker: **Then make yourself not feel like shit some other way

**Craig Tucker: **Take up a fucking craft, hell if I know

**Stan Marsh: **that's so helpful, you should write a self-help book.

**Craig Tucker: **You know what I'm saying

**Craig Tucker: **Does anything else make you feel good?

**Craig Tucker: **And not give you a goddamn hang over

**Craig Tucker: **Just do that instead of getting wasted

**Stan Marsh: **I feel like there should be an answer to this but all I can think of is to open this bottle of peppermint schnapps.

**Craig Tucker: **Then fucking think about it some more; there has to be something you like more than alcohol

**Stan Marsh: **sex, but I hardly think becoming a sex addict is a good solution.

**Craig Tucker: **Well it's better than getting alcohol poisoning

**Stan Marsh: **right

**Craig Tucker: **If you fucking die, I'll kill you, just so you know

**Stan Marsh: **that's overkill

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **so you never did bondage with kenny did you?

**Craig Tucker: **No, why?

**Stan Marsh: **he said he was into it

**Craig Tucker: **Well he never told me that, so no

**Stan Marsh: **you'd be amazed the weird shit I remember when I'm drunk.

**Stan Marsh: **are you into that?

**Craig Tucker: **Into what, bondage? Can't say I've tried

**Craig Tucker: **I wouldn't spend money on shit like that if I don't even know if I'll like it

**Stan Marsh: **…and how many people have you been with

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Stan Marsh: **I just thought you would've tried everything

**Craig Tucker: **Really?

**Craig Tucker: **Haha, you think I'm that hot?

**Stan Marsh: **….

**Stan Marsh: **no comment

**Craig Tucker: **Oh my god, okay, no I haven't tried everything

**Craig Tucker: **But thanks for the ego boost, really

**Stan Marsh: **bastard

**Stan Marsh: **so what have you trie

**Stan Marsh: **tried

**Craig Tucker: **Stuff

**Stan Marsh: **like…specifics

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **I'm drunk and I'm interested in hearing about it?

**Craig Tucker: **Well I don't really feel like sitting here and typing out my sexual adventures, thanks

**Craig Tucker: **If there's something specific you're trying to get at, then just ask

**Stan Marsh: **you're so boring

**Craig Tucker: **Believe me, you don't want to sit and read all that shit anyway

**Stan Marsh: **I bet you've never had any adventurous sex and that's why you're not telling me about it

**Craig Tucker: **Yep, that's why

**Craig Tucker: **Maybe I can jsut try it all on you and see what happens

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Craig Tucker: **You're so drunk that it's not even funny

**Craig Tucker: **You just said okay to that

**Stan Marsh: **yeah, sure

**Stan Marsh: **why not

**Stan Marsh: **I saw a tumblr post once about making a list of the weirdest places you can have sex

**Stan Marsh: **we should make a list and do it

**Craig Tucker: **Really

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Stan Marsh: **…why not

**Craig Tucker: **I guess that's actually valid enough

**Craig Tucker: **Okay whatever make a list

**Craig Tucker: **You're in charge of this project

**Stan Marsh: **if you're too damn lazy to do it I don't think you can handle a list

**Craig Tucker: **It was your idea

**Craig Tucker: **If you want to go fuck in exotic places, then you can pick where it's at because I really don't care where we do it

**Stan Marsh: **your life must be so exciting

**Craig Tucker: **Most people don't spend their time thinking of places to go to have sex, they just do it

**Stan Marsh: **and most people don't just repeatedly have the same sex over and over

**Stan Marsh: **unless they're married and have it scheduled

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, why are you trying to make it sound boring? You've only done it once, stop trying to act like you know what you're talking about

**Stan Marsh: **Okay, but if it gets repetitive..

**Craig Tucker: **You'll be plenty satisfied

**Stan Marsh: **I'm going back to alcohol if it gets boring

**Craig Tucker: **So you're quitting drinking?

**Stan Marsh: **hey, let's go do it on the raft at starks pond

**Craig Tucker: **Dude, why, are you an exibitionist?

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not an exhibitionist

**Stan Marsh: **no one is out there this late at night

**Craig Tucker: **Wait, you're talking baout right now?

**Stan Marsh: **noooooooooooooooo

**Stan Marsh: **I mean next year

**Craig Tucker: **You're a dick, but fine, let's go

**Craig Tucker: **Wait, no, you're drunk

**Stan Marsh: **so

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not touching you if you're drunk, I already said that

**Stan Marsh: **jfc

**Stan Marsh: **are you serious

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not that drunk

**Craig Tucker: **Yes you are, I'm not stupid

**Stan Marsh: **jfc I'm not that drunk

**Stan Marsh: **It's peppermint schnapps

**Craig Tucker: **But you're drunk

**Stan Marsh: **They don't count

**Craig Tucker: **How does it not count?

**Stan Marsh: **I've only had like a bottle and a half over seven hours

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not that drunk

**Craig Tucker: **Dude, no

**Craig Tucker: **Not happening

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Stan Marsh: **you're a bastard

**Craig Tucker: **And you're a drunk

**Stan Marsh: **so

**Stan Marsh: **fine

**Craig Tucker: **So I'm helping motivate you to stop

**Stan Marsh: **if you're ever high I don't want to do you

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, how many times do I have to tell you that getting high won't hurt me

**Craig Tucker: **Try it with me once, you'll see

**Stan Marsh: **Drinking won't hurt me

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Craig Tucker: **Yes it fucking will

**Stan Marsh: **Nope

**Stan Marsh: **hasn't yet

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, fuck you

**Craig Tucker: **If it matters that much, then I won't get high as long as you don't drink

**Stan Marsh: **really

**Stan Marsh: **I don't believe you

**Stan Marsh: **ok

**Stan Marsh: **have you done it in the kitchen?

**Craig Tucker: **Yep

**Stan Marsh: **Bathroom

**Craig Tucker: **Well you blew me in the shower so you should know the answer to that one

**Stan Marsh: **that doesn't count

**Stan Marsh: **roof

**Craig Tucker: **Either way, yeah, once

**Craig Tucker: **Roof what the fuck

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Craig Tucker: **My roof is steep as fuck

**Stan Marsh: **roof of the school

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Stan Marsh: **bathrooms at school

**Stan Marsh: **during class.

**Craig Tucker: **I don't mess around at school a lot, I was with Tweek for quite a while and he was afraid of doing anything at school

**Stan Marsh: **okay, that's on the list then

**Stan Marsh: **movie theater

**Craig Tucker: **Does it matter if I've done these things beofre if you want to do them anyway?

**Craig Tucker: **Just write them all down

**Stan Marsh: **no, I'm listing them here

**Stan Marsh: **theater?

**Stan Marsh: **actually I do closing some nights so we'd have the whole movie theater to ourselves

**Craig Tucker: **You work at the movie theater?

**Stan Marsh: **yep

**Craig Tucker: **And yeah, but I don't think I've ever gone all the way in a theater, that'd just be distracting to all the people around me

**Stan Marsh: **depressing

**Craig Tucker: **What is?

**Stan Marsh: **you sound so fucking bored omg

**Stan Marsh: **it's like

**Stan Marsh: **i don't even know

**Stan Marsh: **I'm going to bed

**Craig Tucker: **It's not boring, what are you even talking about

**Craig Tucker: **You're telling me all the places you want to fuck, it's not boring

**Stan Marsh: **sure

**Stan Marsh: **haunted house?

**Craig Tucker: **Really? no, I haven't done that, but it might actually be interesting

**Stan Marsh: **arcade?

**Craig Tucker: **Considering you're afraid of zombies, it'd be like hero sex, hahahaha

**Craig Tucker: **Nope, haven't done that either

**Stan Marsh: **goddamnit dude ghosts and zombies are completely different

**Craig Tucker: **There's zombies in haunted houses

**Stan Marsh: **There are not

**Craig Tucker: **And clowns and ghosts and skeletons, yes, there's zombies

**Stan Marsh: **whatever

**Stan Marsh: **on a ferris wheel?

**Craig Tucker: **You know, I really havent done it in many public places, most people prefer my bed

**Craig Tucker: **So the answer to most of these will be no

**Stan Marsh: **god I knew you just had boring sex

**Craig Tucker: **Not my fault

**Stan Marsh: **sure it isn't

**Craig Tucker: **Whatever, it's not boring anyway, you loved the shit out of it

**Craig Tucker: **It doesn't matter where it's done, it'll feel the same

**Stan Marsh: **not if its with different condoms

**Craig Tucker: **Then buy different condoms, don't travel the world

**Stan Marsh: **….dude, the bathroom stall at the school is not traveling the world

**Stan Marsh: **no wonder you're stuck with your bed

**Craig Tucker: **It was an exaggeration, asshole

**Stan Marsh: **sure

**Craig Tucker: **If you want to make in interesting, maybe I'll just go buy some fucking cuffs or some rope or some shit since you like being held down so much

**Craig Tucker: **That interesting enough?

**Stan Marsh: **sure.

**Craig Tucker: **Great, we'll go pick some shit out after we take Mellow to the vet tomorrow

**Stan Marsh: **…you're serious

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, you're the one that's complaining about it not being interesting enough

**Craig Tucker: **I'm sure if we drove into Denver, we'd find some interesting shops

**Stan Marsh: **uh…

**Craig Tucker: **Don't fucking complain if you don't want me to do something about it

**Stan Marsh: **god cool it

**Stan Marsh: **you're overreacting

**Craig Tucker: **I'm just saying, don't tell me to do something if you don't mean it

**Craig Tucker: **If you think I won't do something, you're probably wrong, so don't push me

**Stan Marsh: **really

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **Fine

**Stan Marsh: **let's go to some shops

**Craig Tucker: **Are you going to tell me you changed your mind as soon as we get in the damn car?

**Stan Marsh: **no, because mellow needs to go to the vet

**Stan Marsh: **but after she's back at my house

**Stan Marsh: **let's do it

**Craig Tucker: **Alright

**Craig Tucker: **But I'm not loaded or anything, so don't expect to buy a lot

**Stan Marsh: **we don't have to then

**Stan Marsh: **probably should save money

**Craig Tucker: **I'll go if you're actually going to want to use the shit, but if you're just trying to pussy out then just tell me no

**Craig Tucker: **Don't make me waste my time and money. And gas

**Stan Marsh: **fine, then no

**Stan Marsh: **let's not

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want you to bitch about it

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not bitching, ugh, I'm just telling you

**Craig Tucker: **Do you want to go or not?

**Stan Marsh: **no.

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, then why did you even ask

**Craig Tucker: **Or say you wanted it

**Stan Marsh: **sounds like you want it

**Craig Tucker: **No, I'm just annoyed how you have this thing where you like to challenge me because you think I won't follow through and then you back out because you're actually the pussy about everything

**Stan Marsh: **you're not into bondage, why should I be

**Craig Tucker: **Because you're the one that likes being dominated

**Craig Tucker: **And being tied down is in the same category

**Stan Marsh: **whatever

**Stan Marsh: **I'm starting to sober up because someone is a freaking prick who won't make out with someone tipsy

**Craig Tucker: **You're not tipsy, you're wasted

**Stan Marsh: **I'm going to throw this bottle at your car

**Craig Tucker: **You're a dick

**Stan Marsh: **you're a dick

**Craig Tucker: **Because I'm concerned enough for your death to deny both of us sex? Yep, I'm being a dick.

**Stan Marsh: **whatever

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **you're a fucking buzz kill

**Craig Tucker: **Am I? My bad

**Stan Marsh: **jackass

**Stan Marsh: **come over

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Craig Tucker: **So you can insult me to my face?

**Stan Marsh: **yes

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Stan Marsh: **come over

**Craig Tucker: **no, you're being a dick and you're still drunk

**Stan Marsh: **fuck you, come over

**Stan Marsh: **I'm lonely

**Craig Tucker: **ugh, it's the middle of the night, just go to sleep and you won't be lonely anymore

**Stan Marsh: **…..

**Craig Tucker: **My whole not-going-to-touch-you-when-you're-drunk thing isnt' going to work if I just come over when you say you want me to

**Craig Tucker: **I want to, okay? But I'm not going to

**Stan Marsh: **fine

**Stan Marsh: **I want to be exclusive

**Stan Marsh: **come the fuck over

**Craig Tucker: **You're just saying that because you're drunk, in the morning you'll regret asking me for that

**Stan Marsh: **my baby could be dying and you're not coming over to comfort me. dick. wad.

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, fucking fine, I'll come over. But as soon as Mellow gets better, you won't have an excuse to bribe with

* * *

After he ignored Craig's last IM, Stan picked up the peppermint schnapps he had stopped drinking at least twenty minutes ago (of course, after being denied sex). He walked to the bathroom and poured it in the sink, and then hid it in the bottom of the bathroom trashcan away from his mom's sight. Walking back to his room, he decided to grab the remaining bottle and he opened his window and tossed it out on the front lawn. No one would think it was his, they'd probably figure some teen dropped it. Or, that's what his drunken mindset was telling him.

He kicked a pathway to his bed, and then looked down at his lacking of pants. Oh well. He was still wearing Craig's boxers, but he had written on the outside of the back "Stan was here 3" in permanent fabric marker. Walking over to his bed, he crawled in and moved to the side with the window - he was pretty sure the front door was unlocked, and Craig knew the way to his room.

**Craig thinks for a second before he leaves, and then changes into some clothes that he can wear the next day. Chances are, he's not going to be going home before they go to school, so he'd better be prepared. He doesn't bother grabbing anything other than his house key again, and sets off to walk toward Stan's house. He'd really rather drive when it's this late at night, but having his car parked in Stan's driveway would be a screaming sign that something was going on. …and at least a small hint to their parents that they've been sneaking out at night.**

**Thinking about it, why **_**is**_** he sneaking out **_**again**_**? They've been falling asleep together almost every night. What if Craig gets used to it and can't fall asleep on his own? He thinks that might have already happened to Stan, considering Stan is the one that keeps asking for it. Not that Craig minds, but he really did mean it when he said he was going to start denying Stan if he's drunk. At the rate Stan is going, he'll be dead by twenty, and Craig doesn't like the sound of that. Then again, they'll probably kill each other before they're even nineteen, so does it matter if their livers are intact?**

**When he gets to Stan's house, he makes his way up to Stan's room as quietly as possible. When he shuts Stan's bedroom door, he sees Stan already laid down under the blanket. Did that asshole already fall asleep after harassing Craig to come over?**

"**I'm not sleeping in jeans again, just so you know," he says, almost a whisper so he won't wake anyone up in the house. He figures Stan won't care anyway, so he takes off his shoes and his jeans and hoodie and leaves them on the floor as he makes his way to Stan's bed. He climbs in and places himself in what's becoming his habitual spot behind Stan with his arm around Stan's waist.**

Stan huffed under the blankets at Craig not wearing pants, though Craig probably couldn't hear it since he was near the door. When the other climbed in the bed, he glanced over his shoulder for a second and then laid his head back down on his pillow. Snuggling a bit backwards so their bodies were pressing against one another, he said quietly as he placed his hand on top of Craig's, overlapping their arms; "I love you…night."

**Craig freezes for a moment at being told 'I love you' a second time. Does Stan actually mean that? Sure, Craig likes Stan, but love is a bit extreme. Especially since they're not even technically together; that just seems like a lot.**

**Then Craig relaxes a bit, remembering that Stan is drunk. Maybe he's just an 'I love you' drunk; some people get that way. They love everyone. Yeah, that's why Stan said it.**

"**Um… night," he finally says after what feels like forever. It was probably only more like a few seconds, but time has a tendency to slow down when one panics.**

Scoffing under the covers he had pulled to his face as Craig thought about his response, Stan narrowed his eyes as he stared at the window. With a rather bold tone he said, "Why I love you too Stan, good night, sweet dreams. Thank you Craig, that's so sweet. Good night." Then he shut his eyes and frowned slightly. He might be drunk, but he got really sore when his 'I love you's' were effectively denied reciprocation, no matter who it was with. What a jerk.

**Craig just lets it go because he really doesn't want to have this fight right now. …or ever. He's not going to say he loves Stan unless he means it, and there's no way he could mean it after such a short amount of time with the other. And he's especially not going to say it just to appease a drunk Stan, because if Stan remembered when he was sober, he'd ask all kinds of unnecessary questions that Craig doesn't have the answers to. He just sighs and settles into Stan's mattress more comfortably, Stan snug against his body.**

"You suck," He muttered as he drifted off, finding it hard to keep his eyes open. After pretty much funneling small amounts of alcohol he had become really disoriented, but he did it in a way that he could stay up longer before he actually crashed. Now he had hit the point of no return and he was falling rapidly asleep, but he was still pissed that Craig was denying his love you's.

"Ican'tbelieveyouwon'tjustsayit.." He said, though it came out pretty much as one collective word. Persistent on bitching himself to sleep because of Craig's refusal, he continued muttering angrily but quietly and drowsily, "Youcanstickyourdick inmyassbutyoucan'tsay…Fuck you. You are suuuuuuuuuuuuch a bitch."

**At this point, Craig is pretty positive that it's the alcohol bitching and not Stan. He's almost relieved, but a tiny part of him in the very back of his mind wants Stan to mean it. But that part is only there because it feels good when you know someone loves you.**

"**Just go to sleep, Stan," he says, leaning up and over a bit to press his lips lightly to the side of Stan's face. Then he pulls back and settles back into his spot. He really hopes Stan just stops soon, because neither one of them has been getting a lot of sleep and he's pretty damn tired.**

Stan was pretty much out after Craig told him to go to sleep, and even though he was bitching still, it turned into muttering that was incoherent and then he stopped completely. His breathing slowed and was steady as he fell asleep.


	16. 05 22 2012

05.22.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=BNbOWK-mpf4

**Craig Tucker: **What the fuck is that

**Stan Marsh: **Lupin the third abridged series?

**Craig Tucker: **Is that supposed to be a conversation starter?

**Craig Tucker: **I never even watched that show

**Craig Tucker: **But now that we're on stupid videos, did you play Mass Effect 3?

**Craig Tucker: **www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=CpeRk1YFn8s

**Stan Marsh: **sucks to be you then

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Stan Marsh: **It's a good show

**Craig Tucker: **Is it? I don't really watch a lot of anime anymore, mostly just horror movies

**Stan Marsh: **…hm

**Craig Tucker: **What

**Stan Marsh: **I don't really like horror movies

**Craig Tucker: **Why not?

**Craig Tucker: **I watch a lot of cult movies, too

**Stan Marsh: **…like Rocky Horror Picture Show?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **Um…ok

**Craig Tucker: **Okay whatever, judge me by the movies I watch, asshole

**Craig Tucker: **What do _you_ watch?

**Stan Marsh: **Whatever's new at redbox?

**Craig Tucker: **Exciting

**Stan Marsh: **www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=7lReemWmO5o

**Stan Marsh: **That came out today on redbox..have you seen it?

**Craig Tucker: **Actually no, but it looks good I guess

**Craig Tucker: **Did you want to watch it?

**Stan Marsh: **sure

**Craig Tucker: **Aw, even though you don't like scary movies you're going to watch it with me, how adorable

**Stan Marsh: **jackass.

**Craig Tucker: **No really, I want to watch it though so we should get it

**Stan Marsh: **I've watched horrors before.

**Craig Tucker: **I didn't say you haven't, you just said you don't like them

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah..okay, I'll get it when I go out later

**Stan Marsh: **My house or your house?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't really want your family to see me.

**Craig Tucker: **I'm thinking I might just tell them something's up

**Craig Tucker: **I think Ruby already knows

**Stan Marsh: **You told her?

**Craig Tucker: **No, but she's not stupid

**Craig Tucker: **And she's nosy as fuck

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want our families to know yet, jfc can't you just make up something?

**Craig Tucker: **I didn't say I'd tell them exactly what's happening, I said I'd tell them something is up

**Craig Tucker: **Like a solid story isntead of fucking sneaking around

**Stan Marsh: **Oh that's smart make them wonder by using cryptic excuses.

**Craig Tucker: **You think they won't wonder anyway if they hear you walking around?

**Craig Tucker: **Fine, I won't say anything, but the TV in the living room is way nicer than mine

**Stan Marsh: **Ugh

**Craig Tucker: **It's whatever, we can just keep sneaking around in the middle of the night instead of talking to each other during the day like normal people

**Stan Marsh: **You sleep too much anyways

**Craig Tucker: **Really? Because ever since you've been around me I haven't slept much at all

**Stan Marsh: **I have that effect on people

**Craig Tucker: **Is that supposed to be a joke?

**Stan Marsh: **really

**Stan Marsh: **You can't tell huh

**Craig Tucker: **So you IM everyone until 4am every day and force them to come hold you until you fall asleep?

**Craig Tucker: **I thought it was just me

**Stan Marsh: **….

**Stan Marsh: **You're an ass

**Craig Tucker: **Yep

**Stan Marsh: **I hate TMI Tuesday

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Stan Marsh: **They ask things they don't need to know

**Craig Tucker: **TMI stands for "Too much information" if you weren't aware

**Craig Tucker: **That's what they're supposed to do

**Stan Marsh: **Im not going to respond truthfully to questions they don't need to know.

**Craig Tucker: **Okay? So?

**Craig Tucker: **What did they ask that you're talking about it for 3 whole minutes?

**Stan Marsh: **Did you see what they were asking? How do they even know

**Craig Tucker: **How would I see if it's in your inbox

**Stan Marsh: **I posted it.

**Craig Tucker: **I haven't been on Tumblr before just now, and why would you lie, anyway?

**Craig Tucker: **The answer is technically no

**Stan Marsh: **Technically?

**Craig Tucker: **We're not dating

**Craig Tucker: **So technically, yeah, the answer was no

**Stan Marsh: **Do you want to date me?

**Craig Tucker: **Maybe, but not now

**Craig Tucker: **Like you said, it's too soon

**Stan Marsh: **Really.

**Craig Tucker: **Is that bad?

**Craig Tucker: **Besides, you saying that you could just lie about it on that ask implies that there's something to lie about

**Craig Tucker: **If you didn't want people to know, you should have just said no

**Craig Tucker: **I don't personally give a fuck if people know, but you're being a pussy about it

**Stan Marsh: **So then we are dating

**Craig Tucker: **No, how did you get that out of what I just said

**Stan Marsh: **You said you don't care if people know

**Craig Tucker: **I don't, but that doesn't mean we're dating it just means we're… doing whatever this is

**Craig Tucker: **It means we have a thing

**Stan Marsh: **A thing that is like dating.

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, okay, what are you trying to get at here

**Craig Tucker: **Do you want to date?

**Stan Marsh: **Yes

**Craig Tucker: **Are you sober?

**Stan Marsh: **Fuck you.

**Craig Tucker: **I'm just asking becasue you've only ever asked me to date you while you were drunk and I'm not going to agree if you are

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not drunk.

**Craig Tucker: **Then okay

**Stan Marsh: **Okay?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, if you want I'll go out with you

**Stan Marsh: **….

**Craig Tucker: **What

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know, I'm just going to go offline now

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Stan Marsh: **No reason.

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, you're such a bitch

**Stan Marsh: **Why am I a bitch?

**Craig Tucker: **Because you just are. You act like a bitch all the time

**Craig Tucker: **And wtf, don't ask me to go out with you and then not say anything, that doesn't even make sense

**Craig Tucker: **I revoke my acceptance

**Stan Marsh: **What? What am I supposed to say?

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, but you're not supposed to fucking run away from it by going offline

**Stan Marsh: **I've got to walk my dog, wtf

**Stan Marsh: **I'll be right back, jfc…

**Craig Tucker: **Whatever

**Stan Marsh: **Seriously what am I supposed to say to that

**Craig Tucker: **Nothing, go walk your dog

**Stan Marsh: **Jfc you're worse then a girl

**Craig Tucker: **Yep

**Stan Marsh: **I'm sorry

**Craig Tucker: **For what

**Stan Marsh: **For going offline after something like that

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, it's something you would do anyway so whatever

**Stan Marsh: **No, it's not

**Craig Tucker: **Then why did you do it?

**Craig Tucker: **Look, whatever, I'm over it

**Stan Marsh: **I only do that to you

**Craig Tucker: **Wow, I feel special, thanks

**Stan Marsh: **I don't think you know what dating me involves, dude

**Craig Tucker: **If you're trying to convince me not to do it, you're doing a pretty damn good job.

**Craig Tucker: **But I've seen your shit

**Craig Tucker: **And I've handled it just fine so far

**Stan Marsh: **there's a lot more then that

**Craig Tucker: **Enlighten me.

**Stan Marsh: **okay, you don't get it. I was in a relationship for like six years and there's a lot that goes on in it and like, there's meeting the family, and then friends, and then if we have personal space, how much, when I'm not allowed to come over, what we do on holidays, if we see each other on holidays, do we exchange gifts on holidays, do we give each other's families gifts on holidays, do I have to act a certain way around people you know, are there certain times I can't make sexual advances, who we can tell about our sex lives, how much can we tell, how often I tell you what I'm doing, when I'm going out of town or state, who drives when we go out, whose house do we go to the most, how often do we go out, who pays for it or do we go dutch all the time, should we sit together at lunch, am I supposed to meet you in between classes to talk to you…there's just a lot and I don't think I'm ready for that again.

**Craig Tucker: **Dude, is that what you're worried about? It's not that hard, really. You just… take most of that as it comes. You don't have to act any certian way around anyone, and you only buy gifts for things if you want to. Holidays are just… holidays. I get dragged around with my family a lot and I'm not really allowed to not go, but you could probably come if you wanted. And I'm not your mother, you don't need to tell me where you are at all times, but yesh I'd like to know if you're going away for something, like this camping trip. And driving? Really? That's not even an issue, it's just whoever feels like driving. And the whole paying thing is, I dunno, who cares who pays? And ha, trust me, there's no time I woudn't appreciate sexual advances. Most of this isn't even an issue, okay? Just fucking relax

**Stan Marsh: **then if I do something wrong how the hell am I supposed to know if there's no guidelines.

**Craig Tucker: **Dude, what the fuck made you think we need rules?

**Craig Tucker: **You won't mess up that badly, and if you do, you'll know because I'll _tell _you

**Stan Marsh: **..because there were clear things I could and could not do with Wendy?

**Stan Marsh: **I thought every couple has those

**Craig Tucker: **No, that's lame

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, there's certain things people can't do to me personally, but it has nothing to do with whether or not I'm in a relationship

**Craig Tucker: **Like don't hurt Stripe

**Craig Tucker: **Or Ruby

**Craig Tucker: **And stuff like that

**Craig Tucker: **But nothing you'd do anyway, so it's fine

**Stan Marsh: **…

**Craig Tucker: **What

**Stan Marsh: **you make it sound easy. It's not easy

**Craig Tucker: **It is easy

**Stan Marsh: **It is not easy

**Stan Marsh: **dude

**Craig Tucker: **If you like someone, you date them

**Craig Tucker: **That's how easy it is

**Stan Marsh: **…..and do you like me?

**Craig Tucker: **Why are you so dense

**Craig Tucker: **Obviously

**Stan Marsh: **but we're constantly fighting.

**Stan Marsh: **It's not going to work

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, Token said some gay shit about it being "passion" or something

**Stan Marsh: **….what

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, but we have fun fighting anyway, so what the fuck ever

**Stan Marsh: **…you're freaking me out

**Craig Tucker: **What, I'm just tired and I don't feel like playing games anymore

**Craig Tucker: **So I'm telling you what I think

**Stan Marsh: **….okay

**Stan Marsh: **so if we decide to…date, are we telling people

**Craig Tucker: **I already told you that I don't care who knows

**Stan Marsh: **that's not what I meant

**Stan Marsh: **Are you like, going to tell your friends and family

**Craig Tucker: **Why wouldn't I? They won't care

**Craig Tucker: **I mean I'm not going to make a huge deal out of it and announce it to the world

**Craig Tucker: **But if someone asks, I'm not going to lie

**Stan Marsh: **and telling people you're dating stan marsh is in no way embarrassing to you

**Craig Tucker: **Why would you even ask that, that's stupid

**Stan Marsh: **it's not stupid.

**Craig Tucker: **Well no

**Craig Tucker: **It's not

**Stan Marsh: **the minute everyone knows you realize the whole football team is going to know, right

**Craig Tucker: **So?

**Stan Marsh: **they make fun of one guy for being bisexual, and everyone knows I hate you

**Stan Marsh: **if I'm suddenly gay with someone I hate I'm going to be laughed off the field

**Craig Tucker: **Then I won't tell anyone, Christ

**Craig Tucker: **But I'm telling my parents because I'm sick of sneaking around

**Stan Marsh: **…then everyone will know

**Stan Marsh: **it's a small town

**Craig Tucker: **They don't care, trust me

**Craig Tucker: **Who are they going to tell?

**Stan Marsh: **your dad drinks at the bar

**Stan Marsh: **with other dads

**Stan Marsh: **and they talk

**Stan Marsh: **and then they talk to their wives

**Stan Marsh: **and then the moms ask the kids and then I'm fucked.

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, you know what, fine

**Craig Tucker: **Whatever

**Stan Marsh: **what?

**Craig Tucker: **I won't fucking tell anyone

**Stan Marsh: **…but I don't want to date someone who I can't say I'm dating them

**Craig Tucker: **What the fuck do you want from me? I'm trying to be compliant here, but if you're having such an issue with it then forget about me

**Stan Marsh: **…no

**Craig Tucker: **Then what do you want?

**Craig Tucker: **Because this back and forth is pissing me off

**Stan Marsh: **I want you to say you'll beat people up if they attack me on my sexuality, god

**Craig Tucker: **That's a given, dumbass

**Stan Marsh: **really?

**Craig Tucker: **If I was going to beat your best friend for making out with you, you think I wouldn't beat someone who was being a dick?

**Craig Tucker: **Duh

**Stan Marsh: **You're not going to beat Kyle, right

**Craig Tucker: **No, I'm not

**Stan Marsh: **okay, fine

**Stan Marsh: **then I guess we're dating

**Craig Tucker: **Are you actually sure this time? Because I'm sick of not knowing

**Stan Marsh: **..I'm sure

**Craig Tucker: **Then yeah, we're dating.

**Stan Marsh: **you're not afraid of wendy, are you

**Craig Tucker: **I don't actually know much about this situation with Broflovski, but that has to stop, by the way, that's not cool

**Craig Tucker: **And yeah, actually, she's a hardass, but nothing I can't handle

**Stan Marsh: **…what do you mean

**Craig Tucker: **Wendy is a tough bitch and I'd never piss her off on purpose, but I'm not afraid of her

**Stan Marsh: **are you sure

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **okay..

**Stan Marsh: **just make sure your doors are locked at night

**Stan Marsh: **and you might want to park your car in an enclosed place

**Craig Tucker: **Really

**Stan Marsh: **…yeah

**Craig Tucker: **And why hasn't she done anything yet?

**Stan Marsh: **…I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **we haven't made anything official

**Craig Tucker: **Right, well I'm sure I'll be okay

**Stan Marsh: **if you say so

**Stan Marsh: **and what do you mean this thing with Broflovski

**Craig Tucker: **You said you have this thing, I don't know, but there can't be a thing with him if you're dating me

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not okay with that

**Stan Marsh: **…when did I say we had a thing

**Craig Tucker: **I don't fucking remember, but you did

**Craig Tucker: **I doesn't matter when you told me, just stop with it

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not stopping being friends with Kyle if that's what you're saying

**Stan Marsh: **besides, he's with Kenny

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not telling you to stop being friends with him, that would be fucked up

**Craig Tucker: **And okay, whatever, so you won't do it anymore?

**Stan Marsh: **…it's drunken making out how the fuck do I say I won't do it anymore

**Stan Marsh: **I've already told him to punch me if I try it

**Craig Tucker: **And I told you to call me instead of him, so there, problem solved

**Stan Marsh: **Ok, whatever

**Stan Marsh: **do I have to be there when you tell ruby

**Craig Tucker: **Well I didn't really think about it, but if you want

**Craig Tucker: **She'll give you a lot of shit though

**Craig Tucker: **She's a twat

**Stan Marsh: **what do you mean

**Craig Tucker: **She's not acually that mean, but she likes to push buttons

**Stan Marsh: **she's not going to like…post about it on tumblr

**Craig Tucker: **Not if I seriosuly tell her not to

**Craig Tucker: **She'll probably say something like that though, to freak you out

**Craig Tucker: **I thought you didn't want me telling people anyway

**Stan Marsh: **that's not cool

**Craig Tucker: **What, thats she's a twat?

**Craig Tucker: **She's a younger sister, it's what she does best

**Stan Marsh: **I'd rather tell people then fucking anons

**Stan Marsh: **you know they'll send it to kenny or something stupid like that

**Stan Marsh: **I wouldn't know what sisters do best

**Craig Tucker: **Well that's a younger sibling's goal in life is to annoy the older as much as fucking possible

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **good to know

**Craig Tucker: **I'll never say this again, but she's actually pretty cool sometimes. She gets what's okay to say and what's not.

**Stan Marsh: **I guess i don't care if she posts about it

**Stan Marsh: **just tell her not to bother wendy

**Craig Tucker: **She knows there's lines not to cross

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want her to get caught in anything

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah, I know.

**Craig Tucker: **Oaky whatever, so it Ruby the only one I can tell? Not that she probably doesn't already know

**Stan Marsh: **I'm jealous of anyone who has decent human beings as siblings

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Stan Marsh: **just am

**Stan Marsh: **and yeah you can tell her

**Craig Tucker: **That's not what I asked; do you still not want me to tell anyone else?

**Stan Marsh: **you can tell other people

**Craig Tucker: **It's not like I'd tell taht many people anyway

**Craig Tucker: **Probably just Token and Clyde

**Stan Marsh: **oh goddamnit you have to tell clyde

**Craig Tucker: **And probably Tweek, becasue I feel bad about what happened with him

**Stan Marsh: **he's on the football team

**Stan Marsh: **and he has no restrictions

**Craig Tucker: **What do you mean?

**Stan Marsh: **dude

**Stan Marsh: **Clyde talks

**Stan Marsh: **nonstop

**Stan Marsh: **He doesn't know when to stop

**Craig Tucker: **Not about my personal life, that's not interesting to talk about

**Craig Tucker: **He won't care, relax

**Stan Marsh: **ok..

**Craig Tucker: **He didn't even notice I was dating Kenny until a few days before we broke up

**Craig Tucker: **He doesn't care who I'm with

**Craig Tucker: **Like he cares, we're bros, but it doesn't actually matter to him as long as I'm happy with it

**Craig Tucker: **So it's fine

**Stan Marsh: **Ok

**Stan Marsh: **are we going to watch that movie tonight?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, I thought so

**Craig Tucker: **Do you still want to?

**Stan Marsh: **…There's something you should know

**Craig Tucker: **What is it this time

**Stan Marsh: **You know how I have all those video games and I say I play them, right

**Stan Marsh: **The zombie ones

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't, I have Wendy or Kyle play them and I watch and leave when it's too intense

**Craig Tucker: **Really

**Stan Marsh: **Yes

**Craig Tucker: **Well I can play any video games you like because I'm a fucking beast

**Stan Marsh: **…thanks

**Stan Marsh: **I spent most of the season one of walking dead hiding in the kitchen

**Craig Tucker: **Is that your way of saying "Yeah, I'll watch the movie but you're going to have to hold me the whole damn time"?

**Stan Marsh: **so you're not going to like, get pissed if I leave during the movie, right

**Stan Marsh: **….

**Craig Tucker: **Because that's totally cute, hahahahahahahaha

**Stan Marsh: **goddamnit

**Craig Tucker: **I'm being serious, no, don't leave during the movie

**Stan Marsh: **you want me to die don't you

**Craig Tucker: **No, I just want to watch a movie with you, it's harmless

**Stan Marsh: **I'll have a heart attack at seventeen

**Stan Marsh: **and die

**Craig Tucker: **Nah, just hide in my hoodie like the woman you are

**Craig Tucker: **It'll be okay

**Stan Marsh: **I really do hate you

**Craig Tucker: **Haha, that's okay as long as you stay in bed through the whole movie

**Craig Tucker: **…Kenny just asked me if we're going out

**Craig Tucker: **I'm cool with telling people but

**Craig Tucker: **That seems…

**Stan Marsh: **…do you want me to tell him

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know what to say

**Craig Tucker: **No, he asked me

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **are you going to tell him?

**Stan Marsh: **Because when I tell Kyle Kenny will figure it out anyways

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, I told him…

**Stan Marsh: **…what did he say

**Craig Tucker: **He said "no comment"

**Stan Marsh: **…..

**Craig Tucker: **Well I successfully feel like shit

**Stan Marsh: **I'm sorry

**Craig Tucker: **It's not your fault who I choose to be with, it just sucks

**Craig Tucker: **He's one of my best friends and I keep hurting him

**Craig Tucker: **That's so shitty

**Stan Marsh: **…I know the feeling

**Craig Tucker: **Right, well when are you going to come over for this movie

**Craig Tucker: **Should I go pick it up?

**Stan Marsh: **already have it

**Stan Marsh: **Got it when I walked the dog

**Stan Marsh: **should I bring over something?

**Craig Tucker: **Like what? It'll be fine, just come over here

**Stan Marsh: **…you don't want popcorn or something?

**Stan Marsh: **do you like pocky?

**Craig Tucker: **Yes, whatever, I like pockey, just come

**Stan Marsh: **do you care if I bring my dinner, because I'm still eating it

**Craig Tucker: **Sure

**Stan Marsh: **ok

* * *

Sighing as he pulled away from the keyboard, Stan got up and picked his jacket off the back of his chair. He also grabbed a bag that had been sitting on his bed - like every article of clothing he had stolen from Craig in the past few days. He walked over to his desk and pulled out a few boxes of chocolate almond crush pocky, something he had ordered online just for the hell of it. Slipping on his shoes, he ran a hand through his hair as he left his room and then walked down the steps and out the front door. Realizing he had forgotten the DVD on the counter inside, he opened the door again and grabbed it- and then shut the door behind him.

He was feeling a bit off since he knew Kenny talked to Craig and he was pretty sure the phone in his pocket would probably ding with a text sometime in the next few hours. Whether Kenny really was okay with it or not, he didn't know. But now that he wasn't going to drink alcohol, he didn't know if he would be able to handle the depression that was threatening his emotional wellbeing.

Stalking dejectedly through the suburbs, he walked over to Craig's street and then up to his porch and tested the door. It was open, so he went in. He felt a feeling of dread, but he wasn't really sure what caused it - after all, he was dating Craig now, right? Maybe the prospect of Craig seeing him completely wuss out over a movie was intimidating him. Either way, he was sure he could just walk over to Stripe's cage and play with him if the movie got too intense. If not, he might have to squeeze Craig's hand/arm off.

Walking upstairs slowly, he went up to Craig's room, glancing around as he ascended upwards. He wasn't sure if Ruby had figured it out yet or had been told. When he got to Craig's room, he hesitated on opening the door, but ultimately decided if Craig wanted him to knock he would have to punch him in the face. Slipping inside, he shut the door behind him and turned towards the other.

**Craig is laying in his bed when Stan shows up, not quite sulking, but just staring up at the ceiling. It hurt to tell Kenny what's going on, because he knows Kenny was hurt by it too, but Kenny had said he's oaky with it, so… Craig should be happy, right? Or what if Kenny was lying?**

**Craig sits up after a second to acknowledge Stan by looking at him. "Hey," he says, his tone flat with his own disappointment in the day. Maybe now that Stan is there, he can just… do something. He doesn't know, but whatever it is, it'll probably make him feel better. Somehow, even though they fight constantly, Stan has a way of making Craig feel less shitty.**

"**You should come hug me or something," he mutters, staring over at the black screen of his television. Actually, what he really wants is to just kiss the shit out of Stan for a few minutes and then he'll get over it, but whatever.**

"Or something?" Stan questioned as he threw the bag next to the door, carrying the movie and pocky box still as he walked over to the bed and pulled himself up onto it. He opened the box and ripped open one of the packages inside, he then dropped the DVD case on the bed. As he pulled out a piece of pocky however, it broke in half as he worked it out of the container. That gave him an idea.

He stared at it a moment before he looked at Craig, and then put the broken piece of pocky in his mouth and crawled over towards Craig - and then pressed their lips together, with the pocky moving into the other's mouth forcibly. The chocolate melted as he did so, but he didn't move away.

**After a shocked second, Craig bites off his piece of pocky and gives a small chuckle. "That was… cute," he comments, wrapping his arms around Stan's waist and pulling him into his lap. "But you should give me a real kiss, I've had a shitty day," he says, pushing his lips to Stan's again. He keeps his arms around Stan's waist and holds them close together.**

**Really, it was a guess that kissing Stan would help, but it's definitely helping. He can feel his stress about Kenny melting away, even a little, as their mouths press together. It almost makes him think that Kenny will get over it. If Craig is happy, then Kenny should be happy for him, right? Isn't that what bros do?**

Stan heard his phone buzz, and as Craig pulled him into his lap, he almost instinctively reached down to pick it up. Recalling however how upset he got after Kenny's interruption last time he and Craig were together, he narrowed his eyes and pressed into the kiss - the pocky was melting completely away in his mouth. Pulling away to swallow, because he didn't want to choke on pocky - how gross would that be - he moved closer to Craig after and then moved his hand upwards to tilt Craig's chin up a bit with one finger. Planting a trail of kisses down his neck, he whispered, "You know…if I'm your boyfriend…I can leave as many damn marks as I want all over you."

**Craig almost shivers at Stan's words; combined with the kisses Stan was leaving on his neck, he could almost already **_**feel**_** Stan's teeth in him. "Mm, I guess you can," he says back, instinctively moving his head to the side a bit to give Stan better access.**

**He brings his hands up to push Stan's jacket off his shoulders in an attempt to take it off. Craig isn't actually looking for anything too sexual right now, really he just wants to make out and watch a scary movie, but if it happens, he won't complain.**

His phone buzzed again, and he muttered, "Jesus Christ," as he pulled away. "Okay, one minute dude…" He mumbled as he pulled away, his jacket half off. He picked up his phone and started texting, and sat there for a few minutes playing text tag. The entire time his expression changed from worried, to angry; to worried again, and then he sighed. "Craig, I'm going to have to go, can we continue this like…at one or something."

"**Are you fucking kidding me?" he asks, highly annoyed when Stan pulls away to answer a text. Who the fuck answers their phone at a time like this? Sometimes it's okay to ignore a fucking text. He continues to sit there, getting more and more pissed off as Stan continues to sit there and text. What the actual fuck? Why did Craig get in this relationship again?**

"_**Are you fucking kidding me?**_**" he repeats when Stan says he's going to leave. He pushes Stan from his lap and brings his knees up to prevent Stan's return. "What the fuck, okay just fucking go," he says, clearly pissed off. All Craig wanted was to sit there and have a moment whit his newly acquired boyfriend and then watch a movie, but no, he has to go. Well fuck him then.**

When Craig shoved him off, he wasn't expecting it, and tilted over on the bed and bounced a little. Scoffing he gave Craig an irritated glare, his phone still in hand. "What the hell! Okay, look, it's Kenny - he's going to try and shoot himself, okay, I have to go. Kyle's freaking out, I've got to do this one thing, okay. But don't get all fucking pissy on me, do you think I want to leave?"

He sat up, and started fixing his jacket as he slid off the side of the bed. The taste of pocky was lingering in his mouth- he was just going to leave everything here since he intended on coming back.

"Look, I have to go, I'll keep you updated, okay."

…**of course it's Kenny trying to shoot himself. What else would it be when Craig already feels like shit? And what's more, his source of comfort is leaving.**

"…**whatever," he says, dropping his head onto his already raised knees. Just fuck everything.**

He sighed as he looked at Craig, and truthfully he didn't really want to leave him. Moving over to the bed and climbing back up, he put a hand underneath Craig's chin to tilt his face upwards and then planted a short but sweet kiss on his lips; gazing into his eyes for a moment. "Look, I'll be back." He said as he reached up and ran both hands through Craig's hair, then rested his arms on the other's shoulders as he kneeled on the bed. "Are you going to be okay?"

**Craig was expecting Stan to just leave, so when he comes back to the bed, Craig is a bit surprised. He lets Stan kiss him and just continues to stare as Stan kneels on the bed. "I'm fine," he says, even if he's still a little pissed, and now upset for Kenny. Stan is coming back anyway, so Craig will be just fine.**

"Okay," Stan said as he leaned forwards and planted another kiss on Craig's forehead. Then he slipped off the bed again and walked towards the door, and went out - hurrying down the steps and to the outside. Really, he was a lot more stressed then what he just displayed for Craig - what he got he certainly wouldn't have shown him.

* * *

**Stan Marsh:** hey craig?

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah?

**Stan Marsh:** I'm going to be awhile

**Stan Marsh:** Kenny's fine

**Craig Tucker:** Um, okay

**Stan Marsh:** I've just had one hell of a night..

**Craig Tucker:** I know the feeling

**Craig Tucker:** When you come back we'll just watch that movie and try to relax, okay?

**Craig Tucker:** We've been having a _lot_ of really long days

**Stan Marsh:** I kind of want to tell you about it

**Craig Tucker:** Then tell me about it

**Stan Marsh:** don't get upset

**Craig Tucker:** Okay?

**Stan Marsh:** I just took a gun away from Kenny

**Craig Tucker:** Why would I be upset about that? That means he can't use it

**Stan Marsh:** well the fact he had it

**Craig Tucker:** …we all knew he had it

**Stan Marsh:** …it's different when you have to wrestle him to get it dude

**Craig Tucker: **I'm sorry, dude, I just meant

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know what I meant

**Craig Tucker: **But I'm sorry you had to do that

**Stan Marsh: **that sucked..

**Stan Marsh: **I'm going to go by my house and drop off the gun somewhere safe so I can sell it tomorrow and give kenny the money for it

**Craig Tucker: **Sounds good

**Craig Tucker: **When are you coming back? I'll do whatever I can, I don't know what else to say

**Stan Marsh: **um, after I grab some stuff

**Stan Marsh: **I'll be over in like ten

**Craig Tucker: **Alright

* * *

After putting the gun away in his desk, he fed Mellow and Halftime, and then said goodnight to his mom, who was still up. He told her he was going over to Kyle's - no need to get into where he really was going right now, it was too damn late. Going in his room and packing a night bag, he swung his bookbag over his shoulder and then picked up the night bag and sulked out of the house. He was still shaken from his talk with Kenny, but he was trying to be strong.

Reaching Craig's house, he walked in the door and then snuck upstairs. He thought he heard Ruby somewhere, because he heard light foot steps, so he hurried up the stairs to the attic and opened the door and shut it behind him. He threw down his book bag by the doorway, and then set his night bag down beside it. Without so much as a hello, he walked over to Craig's bed and fell face first on it, and laid there with his head in the sheets for awhile before he said, "I fucking hate life so hard right now." His phone was buzzing in his pocket from his previous conversations, but he would check those later - he was hoping Kenny was actually fine and that the bullets he left behind weren't being used for alternative killing methods.

**Craig lays down on his side, his face near the top of Stan's head. He takes his hand and runs it through Stan's hair, holding it away from what he could see of Stan's forehead. "Hey, it'll be okay," he says. In reality, he's pretty beat up too, even if he wasn't there to see what happened. He has a pretty good idea what went down, though.**

**In a way, it sucks that Kenny comes back to life. Maybe if Kenny didn't know he could come back, he wouldn't take suicide so lightly and he'd stop doing it. Though maybe not. Maybe if he couldn't come back, he'd just be dead. And that's a lot worse than what's already happening.**

"**You can take it out on me, if you want," he says, not really sure what it entails, but not really caring. If Stan needed to talk or cry or Hell, even hit, it's not like it'd be the first time any of those things happened to Craig. He'd probably do anything Stan wanted right now, considering how upset they both are.**

Stan's phone buzzed in his pocket again, and he reached down to take it out. Moving so he could look at the phone, he powered it down and then threw it on the floor. "I just want to be quiet for awhile okay." Stan said after a few minutes, and then put his head face down on Craig's bed again. He did however move a little towards Craig, perhaps signaling the other should hug him.

He actually wanted to ask Craig for alcohol, but that would be more trouble than it was worth. And he really didn't feel like getting beaten or something tonight because Craig was pissed at his alcoholism.

**It's not what Craig was expecting, but he complies. He shifts his body around so that he's next to Stan and wraps an arm around him, much like had the other night, with his head resting on Stan's shoulder. He remains silent instead of trying to come up with something to say. After all, Stan said he wanted quiet, anyway.**

**He doesn't know what went on while Stan was gone, but he knows it wasn't good. The easy answer to all of this is to just forget about Stan and go back to Kenny, but… That's not what Craig wants. Not anymore, anyway. He hugs his arm tighter around Stan, and all he can really hope is that Kenny will understand and get over this one day. It's a shitty thing to date a ex's friends, but, well… it makes Craig happy, so why shouldn't he be allowed to do it? Kenny will be okay… eventually.**

Feeling Craig hug him tighter, he muttered something incoherently into the bed sheets. Really, he was still thinking of Kenny- why would the other even try to commit suicide when dating Kyle? It made Stan a little pissed, but even if it was, he couldn't cover the feelings of general worry that were there. He finally moved to look at Craig, and then reached out to toy with his hair idly.

**Craig's head slides from Stan's shoulder as Stan turns beneath him and he lets it fall on his unused arm. He just keeps his arm around Stan and lets him do whatever he wants. Craig isn't feeling any kind of particularly pushy, and since Stan had what was probably a traumatizing day, he can have this moment if nothing else. Besides, it's not like Craig dislikes having his hair played with. He continues to stay silent, staring at Stan, and waits for Stan to do whatever it is he wants to do.**

Running his fingers through Craig's hair, he massaged the other's scalp slightly as he did so. Then he looked at Craig's eyes again, and for a moment just stayed that way, not moving at all.

"…Do you want a blow job or something?" He said after a moment, wondering if that was why the other kept staring at him. Even if it wasn't intentional, he was feeling slightly pressured by Craig's gaze and he was slightly confused why he was just letting him play with his hair..unless the other was expecting something.

**At the slightly confused, maybe even accusatory, tone in Stan's voice, Craig isn't sure what to say. He hadn't actually **_**wanted**_**anything, he was just looking at Stan because, well, he wanted to look at Stan. "Um… why do you ask?" he decides to ask. Because normally he wouldn't turn something like that down, but the offer just seemed odd somehow.**

"Well…you're like…staring at me.." Stan said quietly, his hand still in Craig's hair as he looked downwards, maybe at Craig's crotch but at the same time it was just to look away from his intense gaze. His face was a little red from suddenly blushing, since Craig hadn't denied wanting one, and now he was wondering if the other was intending on doing whatever he wanted with him now that he knew how to press his buttons.

"**I was just looking at you…" he says, not really understanding why it was making Stan react this way. True, Craig has been told he has intense eyes, but… maybe that's just it. Maybe it's just his stare. He grins a little, figuring out that all he has to do is stare at Stan to make him squirm like this. Even if that wasn't his intent, it's still kind of amusing and it's helping to dissolve some of the depression in the room, so maybe it's not such a bad thing.**

"**But if that's what you really feel like doing right now, I'm not going to stop you," he says, his tone lightening up a bit from his quiet reprieve from earlier. Because it's true, why would he stop something like that? But either way, Craig won't be disappointed, considering Stan's reason for coming over was to watch this movie.**

"Uh.." Stan felt his heart beat a little faster, not expecting that response. What an asshole. "No..not really right now, maybe…later." Truthfully, the only thing he wanted to stick in his mouth tonight was his tooth brush, so he wasn't really expecting Craig's gaze to taunt him into performing a blow job.

Feeling embarrassed, he rolled over so his back was against Craig, and then he curled up slightly in a half-attempt at the fetal position while spooning.

"Are you going on that field trip next weekend?" He asked, trying to change the subject. "I checked it on my way back…I don't even know how he put me and you in the same room." He really hoped Craig didn't connect the dots - Stan really wasn't being the most safe driver lately, including texting while driving.

**Craig represses a snicker when Stan has to turn away from him to avoid his eyes. He'll definitely store this information for later use. Right now, though, he just forms himself snug to Stan and enjoys the feeling of their bodies being pressed together again. He really does enjoy their prolonged cuddle hugs.**

"**Yeah, I'm going, I need the grade," he says, not really noticing Stan's off comment about checking Tumblr while driving. "And he put us together because I asked him to," he adds, not really seeing a problem with it.**

"…did you like, see how he put the rooms," Stan commented idly after, reaching over to take Craig's arm and put it over his middle so he could put his arm on it.

"He put Wendy and Kenny and Kyle on either side of us, I think. Unless the rooms are across the hall..but that's still awkward, right." He really didn't want to end up hearing Kyle and Kenny doing anything in the next room, and he didn't want Wendy hearing anything that he and Craig talked about. In fact, he'd probably be mute for the duration of the trip.

He traced a finger over the contours of Craig's hand, and then added, "Can we just..not do anything during the trip, ok. I can't handle Wendy next door." That, and he didn't want Kyle hearing him either - that would be equally as awkward for him. But since Craig seemed to be jealous of Kyle, he didn't want to bring that up.

**Craig thinks about it for a second, and it's not like the only thing they ever do it sex, considering they've only done it once. Why would it be a problem to not do it there, too? Though it's a little funny that Stan asked to not do it.**

"**You're afraid of someone hearing you after all those places you were listing that you want to have sex?" he asks, not sure if he's amused or put-off by Stan's back and forth-ness. He decides it's actually a little cuter than annoying, so he lets it slide. "But yeah, we don't have to go all out on a school trip, that's cool with me."**

"Uh…" Stan was turning redder, but he decided not to comment on Craig's statement, and instead he just said, "…yeah…" after Craig said it was cool with him. With a pause in the conversation, his mind drifted back to the log he had with Craig and Kyle and Kenny the night he was drunk. It was strangely awkward recalling what he had said, because if he had been sober, he wouldn't have said anything like it. But then again, did it lead to them getting together? Probably.

"Um..about…uh…the places," He said after a moment, recalling the list, "….uhh…can we just…not talk." What he wanted to say was we should totally complete the list three times over, but he couldn't bring himself to actually saying that, and he felt a little faint trying to convey anything at all.

**Deciding that, even if it's fun, Stan's had enough humiliation for one night. "Sure, why don't we watch that movie?" he asks, actually having forgotten about it for a few minutes there. That was the whole reason Stan is there, they should at least watch it.**

"Sure," He said, even though he wanted to really say 'fuck the movie, you bastard, you turned me on and now you're going to scare the hell out of me'. It was a complicated thought, but he rolled his eyes as he pulled himself into a sitting up position so he could see the television.

**Craig felt the front of his body chill with the absence of Stan's body, but he sits up as well. He watches Stan set the movie up for a second before reaching for his remote and putting the TV on the right setting. He lays back down near the pillows instead of where they previously were. He leaves space for Stan to lay with him again, since he'd been informed that Stan hated scary movies. The least Craig can do is squeeze him and … distract him during the bad parts.**

Glancing back at Craig, he moved backwards after getting on the bed but stayed in a sitting up position even though the other was laying down. He would rather be in a fight-and-flight position if something scary was going to happen, so he didn't want to lay down.

As the beginning started, he stayed abnormally quiet as he tried focusing on something other than the television, but he still looked towards the television. If maybe he just convinced himself this was a set and these things didn't happen, he could get through the movie without squirming. But then when the three girls walked out the window, he covered his mouth and coughed lamely as he tried to lower his eyes without being too obvious, which in his attempt to seem not obvious he only made it more obvious.

**He watches as Stan sits on the bed, not laying down, and he doesn't really know what to think about it. He wants to be close, even is Stan doesn't want to lay down, because why would they not? He scoots so that he's slightly wrapped around Stan, with his knees on Stan's one side and his chest near the other with his stomach pressed against Stan's back. He leans on his elbows and watches the television, satisfied with his positioning.**

**When he hears Stan cough, Craig represses the urge to grin, because really, Stan's fear of movies and zombies and other stuff is just precious…ly hilarious. He keeps watching, letting Stan have that one without comment because the movie's only just started.**

Stan hadn't even noticed Craig weaving himself behind him and curling up to him in a strange back-hug. The movie was tame for awhile, and he really didn't see anything scary until the man got to the house - a good twenty minutes in. He had been focusing on other things up until then, when the main character heard the chair creaking in the room he couldn't open the door to. Feeling a little agitated, he went to move off the bed when he realized Craig was directly behind him - he at least thought he could have gotten off the bed to 'casually stretch', which was another way so he didn't have to look at the screen. But Craig was blocking his escape.

"Dude. What the hell." He muttered as he looked at Craig, wondering how long he had been there.

**Craig wraps his right arm around Stan's back to hold onto Stan's side and uses the other to rest on his thigh. He looks up at Stan and says, "Dude, don't leave," with a bit of a glint in his eye. He's enjoying this movie and he wants Stan to stay. "Just relax," he says, rubbing his thumb in what he hopes is a soothing way on Stan's thigh. He rests his head on Stan's leg against Stan's hip, turning his attention back to the movie without waiting for a response. Maybe if Craig just holds onto Stan, he won't try to get up and leave.**

"I wasn't going to leave," Stan said a bit loudly, and then looked towards the screen hesitantly. The door was open to the room now, and as the cameraman focused on the chair and a face appeared, Stan made a disgruntled noise as scooted forwards. He was trying to get out of Craig's clutches in order to reposition himself in a way he couldn't see the tv but still looked like he was watching, but he found it difficult to get away.

"Craig, quit it, I don't want to watch, this is too…Goddamnit I don't want to watch,"

"**Stan, it's okay, just… come here," he says, giving Stan a bit of space to maneuver around. He hadn't expected Stan to be**_**actually**_** that freaked out, just a little scared. Once he has Stan securely huddled to his chest, he takes his arm to use his had to tilt Stan's chin up for a kiss. It's firm to let Stan know that it's just a stupid movie, and just a bit tender to help relax him. He returns his arm to Stan's back and decides to let Stan decide when they're finished. It's to comfort **_**him**_** after all, so however much he needs, he can have.**

"Erghhhhhhh.." Stan moaned as the other moved him, and he decided to bury his head in Craig's chest. It wasn't long before the other moved his chin upwards to plant a kiss on his lips, and he doesn't break away from it until he hears the movie quiet down. He pulled away and buried his head in Craig's chest, intending to stay that way for the rest of the movie, with one arm underneath him and the other draped over Craig.

**Once Stan breaks from the kiss, Craig just lets him continue his hiding. Whatever, even is Stan doesn't want to watch – when he's the one that suggested it in the first place – Craig can still enjoy it with Stan held in his arms. He likes Stan being there anyway, so he's glad.**

**It's not actually that bad of a movie, and he watches it until near the end before he realizes that Stan hasn't really said anything, or even moved much, since they laid down. "You even awake?" he asks, quiet considering how late it is, even if there's no room next to his for someone to hear.**

Muffled, Stan replied, "Of course I'm fucking awake." He was extremely pissed at himself for suggesting Woman in Black, he didn't know what he was going to do when it was over and Craig made fun of him for not watching it. He really didn't expect it to be scary in the first five minutes. He waited until he heard the music change to something that remotely sounded happy, and then he looked at Craig by moving back a bit, not the television.

"I hate your movie genre preference."

"**Haha, but that was cute," he says automatically. He's not really sure why he says it, though. Thinking about it, Craig used to tell Tweek when he did cute shit, too, but… Craig never expected Stan would ever do anything cute that he'd have to point out. Well, now that they're dating, he might start noticing more.**

**He leans forward to where Stan had pulled himself to give him another kiss. The credits roll on the movie so the room get's significantly darker with the near black screen. Somehow though, Craig doesn't care that the light isn't on. He likes this.**

"Cute? Ugh." Stan huffed, finding it somewhat sickening that Tucker found him adorable. He really was trying to get over those harsh feelings towards him - he was sure the competition between them would always exist, though. As the other moved in for a kiss, he avoided his mouth and tilted his head to nuzzle Craig's neck, and then nipped him lightly.

**Craig wasn't expecting Stan to dodge his kiss, so he gets a little frustrated when it happens. When Stan nuzzles into his neck, though, he doesn't quite care as much.**

"**Hey, watch yourself," he says when Stan nips at him. He's not sure if Stan knows exactly how much he likes being bitten. Stan knows, and uses it against Craig all the damn time, but he really shouldn't do it unless he's looking for something more. …maybe Stan **_**does**_** know.**

Moving himself so he was straddling Craig on all fours, he pushed the other on his back and moved back towards the others neck as he nipped him again. Then he moved back so their noses were almost touching, looking right in Craig's eyes.

"Maybe I don't like being called cute, you bastard."

**Craig lets Stan get on top of him, liking where things are headed. He moves his hands up to rest on the small of Stan's back, slipping under the hem of his shirt a bit, as Stan nips at him again. He gives Stan one of those intent stares when Stan connects their gazes.**

"**Really? Cause you're being pretty cute right now, too, being all pouty and trying to be defiant by climbing on top of me," he says, running one of his hands slowly up the skin of Stan's back. He traces his fingers lightly along Stan's spine and continues to stare Stan in the eye.**

"It's not going to work," He said flatly, knowing that Craig wanted him to be compliant but it wasn't going to happen. No, he was pissed that the other had figured out he didn't like him looking him in the eyes like…well, like that.

Feeling the other's hand move along his backside, he bowed down again and this time dug his teeth into Craig's neck, intending on leaving one hell of a mark. If he was going to try and control him, well, he'd have to hold Stan down.

**Craig's back arches a bit with Stan's next bite. It's a pretty damn hard one, and Craig thinks it might even bleed this time. He lets out a strangled "**_**Fuck**_**," before winding his arms tight around Stan's back, Stan's t-shirt riding up coincidentally under his arms. He can feel himself reacting to the teeth in his neck and all he wants is to thrown Stan down on the mattress and make him feel this good, too.**

**He rolls his body and gets himself on top of Stan, snatching Stan's wrists and pinning them to the mattress on either side of Stan's head. He wants to feel his neck to see if he's bleeding, but then again, he really doesn't want to know. He's not sure how he'll feel if he **_**is **_**bleeding.**

**He leans down and takes a patch of Stan's skin between his lips and starts to work another mark to life. He likes knowing Stan will have marks on him; marks he can look back on. He lowers his hips and rocks them against Stan's, slowly grinding them together. He pulls away from Stan's neck and moves to trace the shell of his ear with his tongue before whispering, "You've had a long day; what do you want?"**

A bit breathless, Stan felt them changing positions but he really wasn't going to stop it. Instead, he let Craig move him fairly easily, and he stared at the other with his eyes straining to focus on him even in the darkness. At feeling his wrists pinned, he squirmed slightly as his mouth fell partway open. Why did Craig have to be on top every goddamn time?

When Craig went to work on his neck, he moaned slightly, trying to lift his hands. He really didn't want to start this with the thought of Craig's family in the house, and he knew how loud they were last time…but it was so damn tempting. And when the other moved his hips against his, he closed his eyes and tried calming himself. How could Craig be turned on after watching a movie like that? For that matter, why was Stan reacting to Craig being turned on after hearing a movie like that?

As Craig whispered into his ear, he responded, "Just..do whatever. But…your family…we shouldn't."

**Craig is irked for a second at the mention of his family. He really doesn't want to think about them at a time like this. It's not like they don't know Craig has sex, and they have no idea who's up here, so who the fuck cares?**

"**Just…" he starts, irritated that he can't do whatever he wants because Stan might be too loud. Any other day he'd be more than happy to sit there and listen to Stan moan and write beneath him, but right now it's not exactly practical. "Bite down on something," he suggests, considering taking off his shirt and lending it to Stan for such a purpose. He really doesn't want to stop, even considering what he's about to do. He thinks Stan deserves it after his day… or something.**

"…what," Stan said after a moment, his eyes widening a bit at Craig's suggestion. He was perfectly aware of their earlier conversation involving gags - but did Craig just suggest he be gagged? His heart started beating extremely fast in his chest, and he tried pushing the other off of him. Unfortunately, the way Craig was leaning on him, he couldn't get leverage to hoist the other off - so he laid like a deer in the headlights.

"You can't be serious."

**Craig resists rolling his eyes because it's not that foreign of a concept, but whatever. "Yes I'm fucking serious," he says, matter-of-factly. He leans down more, invading Stan's personal space, until their lips are barely a twitch apart. He looks Stan in the eye, his own slightly narrowed, and says, his voice a casual low, "Unless you don't want me to put your dick in my mouth."**

"Y-you're going to what," Stan said, stuttering a bit. Sure, he had done it to Craig, but he really didn't want Craig's mouth anywhere near anything of his, mainly because Craig could possibly bite it off. "I don't want a blow job…gag, fine, just don't. No."

He thought if he said yes to the gag, Craig would take him seriously.

**Craig frowns at Stan's refusal. It's not often Craig offers something like that, and for Stan to just say 'no' is kind of pissing him off. "Did you just say no," he says, more than asks. What the fuck, who says no to head?**

"**Maybe I'll just do it without giving you anything to bite on. That'll be a great way to introduce you to the 'rents, don't you think?" he asks, sarcastically as he goes back down to attack Stan's skin again, a bit rougher this time because he's angry.**

"I said no," Stan repeated flatly, not wanting the other to misinterpret what he said as some sort of cloaked, 'yeah go ahead'. When Craig continued, his eyes widened and he struggled again and managed to get one hand free to push Craig back.

"I said no, goddamnit," He said with frustration, and stared at the other with an unhappy expression on his face. Really, he was sort of frightened, and it showed if Craig took a moment to look at him. "I'll do it to you, I don't want you to do it to me."

If he had known Craig hated doing it and it was actually him trying to be nice, he might have been less scared at the prospect of Tucker's teeth being centimeters away from his most precious part; but instead he was thinking the other was being unnecessarily demanding and had something planned he wouldn't like.

**Craig sighs and loosens his hold on Stan as his posture deflates a bit. His forehead rests in the crook of Stan's neck as he tries to gather his slightly beaten pride. "Fine, but I'm never fucking offering again," he says, sounding less annoyed now but really just confused.**

**Why the Hell would Stan say no to that? Has Stan been lying this whole time and he doesn't actually like being close with Craig? He'd be a pretty damned good liar, but… considering those first couple of times in the locker room, this could just be another sick joke.**

**He sighs again, trying not to think that way. If Stan is supposed to be his boyfriend, he can't think that kind of thing or it'll ruin the whole relationship.**

**Craig lets himself crumple over beside Stan instead of on top of him and closes his eyes dejectedly. "I'm going to sleep," he mumbles, not wanting to think about what just happened anymore than he already had. Stan probably has a good reason for saying no… probably.**

Still rattled from the conversation, Stan stared at the ceiling for a few seconds as Craig put his forehead against his neck, and then felt the other move off of him and he heard him mumble that he was going to sleep. In actuality, Stan was hurt by Craig just giving up entirely, and he turned to look at him as he laid right next to him. Reaching out to stroke Craig's bangs from his face, if not for a moment, he moved to give him a hug, rubbing his shoulder gently as he pulled himself closer.

"I'm sorry…look, I just don't…" Was it really that easy though? Really, it was a trust issue - he didn't want to admit it, but he couldn't keep himself from thinking of ways Craig could potentially screw him over or hurt him. "I'm sorry…I…uh…okay, I was thinking you're going to bite down. It's stupid because we've done a lot and I don't know why I'm…goddamnit."

**Craig just scoffs shortly, not opening his eyes while his brows furrow together. "Because I would do that," he says tightly. He considers rolling over and just avoiding Stan all together but that would take way too much effort by this point. Now Craig is just all kinds of offended and disappointed and he doesn't care anymore. "It's not like I was excited anyway, I fucking hate giving head," he mumbles, still trying to tell himself he's not actually upset about it. It's true he hates it, but he was looking forward to fucking around some more. Lately, everything has been interrupting them in some form or another.**

If he hated giving head, why the hell did he offer? Stan thought, extremely confused. He wasn't used to people accommodating for him, he just thought he was supposed to keep giving until the other was happy and that was what kept him content. He moved his hand down to Craig's waist line, and then put his forehead against Craig's and said quietly, "I'm sorry…I know you wouldn't, I'm just…can we do something else. Or do that, I don't care, I don't want you to be unhappy…"

**Craig considers not even responding for a few seconds before he eventually gives in. They're just going to hit every damn wall if they don't talk about shit after it happens. "I'm fine, I just can't believe you actually thought I would fucking bite you," he says, sounding a little bitter about it. If Stan trusts him that little, then what the fuck are they doing dating?**

**After a small moment of calming himself down again, he adds, "And I don't care, we can do whatever you want. Just make sure you actually fucking want it before you ask…" He's actually kind of upset about that, too, now that he said it. He wasn't really thinking about it before, but Stan has this tendency to say he wants shit and then back out, and it's frustrating to Craig because all he tries to do is be accommodating and it hits him back in the face every fucking time.**

"Okay, look, we've done a lot of shit to test each other and I never know when you're going to stop and…ugh, goddamnit, I don't know what we're doing but I fucking like you a lot, okay, I want to work through this. But maybe we should just stop tonight because I'm still upset about Kenny. And if you remember, the last guy who did that to me was…yeah, whatever, I don't want to talk about it."

He pulled himself closer to Craig, trying to snuggle up to the other regardless if he was pissed or not. It was actually the first time had said he liked Craig when he wasn't plastered.

**Craig tries to ignore most of Stan's rant, except for one part. When Stan all but buries himself in Craig's chest, Craig just sighs and tries to relax himself. "So you 'fucking like me a lot,' huh?" he asks, wrapping an arm around Stan's shoulders. He has to admit, even after the major blow his ego just took, that feels good to hear. It's not as intense as Stan's drunken 'I love you's but Craig is okay with that. He likes this level of commitment a lot better than the other option.**

**Craig thinks about it for just a second, not wanting too much time to pass between sentences, and decides to say, "I fucking like you a lot, too." He's pretty sure it's true, even if he hasn't quite admitted it to himself. He **_**must**_** like Stan a fucking lot to put up with the shit Stan puts him through.**

"Yeah. Don't make me regret saying it," Stan muttered under his breath, though it was probably loud enough for Craig to hear it. He closed his eyes and put a hand up on Craig's head, so he could toy with his hair as he fell asleep. When he heard that Craig said he fucking liked him a lot too, he smiled slightly and then said, "Do you fucking _like_ like me?"

"**You have this uncanny ability to make everything sound incredibly gay," he says, feeling Stan's fingers start to slip through his hair. "But yes, I fucking **_**like**_** like you, Stan," he says. Adding Stan's name at the end made him more aware of his own heartbeat. Even if he'd said it mockingly, adding someone's name when you speak to them makes it more personal. More intimate.**

**He rubs his thumb back and forth against Stan's back as Stan continues to play with his hair. It makes him wonder how they went from violent throw-downs in the school hallways to laying in bed together, stroking at each other **_**affectionately**_**. It seems unreal, yet here it is happening.**

"Hmmm…I fucking like that you like like me though," Stan continued to pretty much pet Craig's head, and then started drifting off to sleep. It was really late, and he couldn't keep his eyes open now that they had stopped fooling around. After a few minutes, his hand stopped stroking Craig's hair and then his hand fell on Craig's pillow as he went to sleep.

**Craig manages a smile at Stan's words, because somehow they can go from watching a horror movie, to fucking around, to angry, to bitter, to disgustingly sweet all within an hour. Maybe Token was right about that whole "passion" thing. He closes his eyes and eventually falls asleep with Stan's fingers still teasing through his hair.**


	17. 05 23 2012

05.23.2012 – 05.24.2012

* * *

**Craig Tucker: **Tweek messaged me today

**Craig Tucker: **I think he's hurt that I didn't go back to him after Kenny broke up with me

**Craig Tucker: **Why does everyone want me so much

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Stan Marsh: **…I'm sorry?

**Stan Marsh: **Guess I shouldn't be posting shit on tumblr then

**Craig Tucker: **I don't really give a fuck, he already knows

**Craig Tucker: **It's not like Iw as hiding it from him

**Stan Marsh: **…do you want to get back with him?

**Craig Tucker: **No, but I feel like shit about the way things ended

**Craig Tucker: **We don't even talk anymore because it's just awkward

**Stan Marsh: **…well you were together for awhile

**Stan Marsh: **I haven't talked to Wendy since we ended things

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, I don't even know what to do anymore

**Craig Tucker: **I've started to accept the fact that I just fuck everyone over, so it's whatever

**Stan Marsh: **ugh..

**Craig Tucker: **So how was your day, _dear_

**Stan Marsh: **….

**Stan Marsh: **are you annoyed?

**Craig Tucker: **Nope.

**Stan Marsh: **It was weird

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't really want to tell you

**Craig Tucker: **Why not?

**Stan Marsh: **It involves kyle

**Craig Tucker: **So? Isn't he your "super best friend" or something

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **But it was weird

**Craig Tucker: **Okay?

**Craig Tucker: **"I had a weird day with Kyle and I'm not going to tell you about it"

**Craig Tucker: **Okay.

**Stan Marsh: **when I was drunk I was asking stupid questions, okay

**Stan Marsh: **and one of them was what Kyle was turned on by because I had a window open with Kenny and he was talking about something like that

**Stan Marsh: **but then Kyle asked me what my turn ons were

**Stan Marsh: **and he wasn't drunk and later I looked at the log and I'm like, why would he even ask that shit

**Craig Tucker: **The part of this story that I'm stuck on is the "I was drunk" part

**Craig Tucker: **Why were you drunk

**Stan Marsh: **It was a few days ago

**Craig Tucker: **Then why did that make today weird?

**Stan Marsh: **the peppermint schnapps night

**Stan Marsh: **I brought it up and we were talking about it, and he asked what would happen if he hypothetically liked me

**Stan Marsh: **I don't get it

**Craig Tucker: **Isn't he dating Kenny

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah

**Craig Tucker: **Why would he even ask that

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know..

**Craig Tucker: **Never mind, I don't care

**Craig Tucker: **What did you say?

**Stan Marsh: **Well I said if we were both single, maybe we could date because it's nbd, but we're not so I asked why he was asking and he went I was just curious

**Stan Marsh: **it was just weird..

**Craig Tucker: **Hm

**Stan Marsh: **what?

**Craig Tucker: **Nothing, I agree, it's weird.

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to lie to you dude..

**Stan Marsh: **I have liked Kyle a long time but we never did anything besides make out, and we're not going to, ok

**Stan Marsh: **It's just a thing

**Stan Marsh: **we're friends first

**Stan Marsh: **there's nothing to worry about because Kyle said awhile back he doesn't feel the same way

**Craig Tucker: **I see

**Craig Tucker: **Well that's good to know, I guess

**Stan Marsh: **you don't fuck everyone over, by the way

**Craig Tucker: **If you say so

**Stan Marsh: **you and token are cool right

**Stan Marsh: **that's someone

**Stan Marsh: **and clyde

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, they're still my bros

**Craig Tucker: **But they're not who I'm talking about and you know it

**Stan Marsh: **I fucked over Kenny and Wendy

**Stan Marsh: **you don't think I feel bad about that?

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, I didn't say you weren't doing it too

**Craig Tucker: **Look, it doesn't matter

**Craig Tucker: **They'll all be fine

**Craig Tucker: **…eventually

**Stan Marsh: **yeah…I guess

**Craig Tucker: **So how much of that movie did you actually watch? It was pretty good

**Stan Marsh: **thirty minutes or something

**Stan Marsh: **I didn't like it

**Stan Marsh: **I'm sorry for what happened after still..

**Craig Tucker: **Don't mention it

**Stan Marsh: **why?

**Craig Tucker: **Because the moment is over and it pissed me off so I'd rather not think about it

**Stan Marsh: **did you really want to do it anyways

**Stan Marsh: **you said you hated it

**Craig Tucker: **I do hate it

**Stan Marsh: **then why are you so pissed about it

**Craig Tucker: **Because if I'm going to actually offer something like that, you don't turn it down and then tell me how much you don't trust me, that's fucking why

**Stan Marsh: **you can't tell me you trust me completely yet

**Craig Tucker: **I trust you enough to call you my boyfriend, but apparently you think I'm enough of a dick to plan biting you by offering to give you head, so fuck you

**Stan Marsh: **goddamnit

**Stan Marsh: **Okay, I was freaked out

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, I know.

**Stan Marsh: **I trust you, okay?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah.

**Stan Marsh: **no, I do.

**Stan Marsh: **I've trusted you since the locker rooms. I'd be dead right now if you hadn't been there.

**Stan Marsh: **I just get easily freaked out after scary shit, okay

**Craig Tucker: **…yeah.

**Stan Marsh: **I just thought when you said gag, you meant…the other thing

**Stan Marsh: **I was okay with that

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, I was going to do that, too

**Stan Marsh: **if you don't like doing something why would you do it?

**Craig Tucker: **Because.

**Stan Marsh: **no, really

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want you doing shit you hate

**Craig Tucker: **Because I "fucking like you a lot" and I wanted to do it

**Stan Marsh: **But you hate it

**Stan Marsh: **why not do things you like to do with me

**Craig Tucker: **If I wanted to do it, then I wanted to fucking do it, why is that such a bad thing?

**Craig Tucker: **You were having such a shitty day and I wanted to make you feel good, okay?

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not actually that bad at it

**Craig Tucker: **I just don't like doing it

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not saying you're bad at it…I don't know, I just don't want you to do shit you don't want to

**Stan Marsh: **I actually like doing it

**Stan Marsh: **….ignore that

**Craig Tucker: **You do?

**Stan Marsh: **….

**Craig Tucker: **I told you that you were gay, but that's not the point

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not gay..

**Craig Tucker: **The point is that next time I offer something that you know I don't like, take it as a, I don't know, something good

**Craig Tucker: **Don't fucking tell me no becasu that hurt

**Stan Marsh: **I didn't know you hated it

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, I don't want to talk about this anymore.

**Stan Marsh: **What?

**Stan Marsh: **dude, I didn't know

**Stan Marsh: **If you said it at some point I forgot

**Stan Marsh: **jfc, it happens

**Stan Marsh: **I'll write in a reminder on my phone about it, ok

**Stan Marsh: **every morning at 5 when I get up

**Stan Marsh: **"craig hates BJs don't decline if offered"

**Craig Tucker: **That's not funny, fuck off

**Stan Marsh: **dude, come on

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Stan Marsh: **how can I make it up to you?

**Craig Tucker: **Just stop talking about it.

**Stan Marsh: **you're pissed

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah.

**Stan Marsh: **why

**Craig Tucker: **Because stop talking about it.

**Stan Marsh: **look, I don't know any other way to say I'm sorry

**Stan Marsh: **I could probably say it in spanish if I paid attention in class but I don't

**Stan Marsh: **please don't be pissed at me..

**Craig Tucker: **I'll stop being pissed if you just let it fucking drop like I asked

**Stan Marsh: **dude

**Craig Tucker: **You can't keep pushing shit when I'm pissed off, it just makes it worse

**Craig Tucker: **Just let me get the fuck over it

**Stan Marsh: **Ok..

**Stan Marsh: **…

**Craig Tucker: **That means talk about something else now

**Stan Marsh: **have you ever had angry sex?

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, no one pisses me off as much as you do

**Stan Marsh: **…that's what I'm saying

**Stan Marsh: **you want me to come over?

**Craig Tucker: **Not unless you feel like getting punched in the head

**Stan Marsh: **….

**Stan Marsh: **it depends

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, you don't want to have sex with me right now anyway

**Craig Tucker: **It'd only be your second time, and I'm not exactly feeling nice

**Stan Marsh: **oh, and I brought up angry sex because I totally want nice angry sex right now, right

**Stan Marsh: **like don't forget to go out and buy me flowers before you pound me into the carpet

**Craig Tucker: **You're being a bitch

**Stan Marsh: **am I?

**Craig Tucker: **Fine, come over, but don't complain to me when you can't get out of be tomorrow

**Stan Marsh: **what's the best thing to use as a gag

**Stan Marsh: **I can't figure out what to bring

**Craig Tucker: **Anything you can bite down on, something soft to absorb the noise

**Craig Tucker: **Not to be a dick, but like a sock

**Stan Marsh: **I don't have any clean

**Craig Tucker: **I do

**Stan Marsh: **Ok

**Stan Marsh: **so you're serious right

**Stan Marsh: **you're not just going to lock me out right

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, I'm going to fuck the bitchy righ out of you

**Stan Marsh: **really

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah.

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not kidding when I say you won't be able to move tomorrow, though. I'd be prepared to skip school.

**Stan Marsh: **I doubt that

**Craig Tucker: **Hm, we'll see.

**Stan Marsh: **so you never answered my question

**Stan Marsh: **have you had angry sex?

**Craig Tucker: **Just get your ass over here or I'm going to lose interest and go to bed

**Stan Marsh: **just one goddamn minute, I have to get changed

**Craig Tucker: **Right

**Stan Marsh: **okay, heading over

**Craig Tucker: **Alright

* * *

Feeling a bit iffy as he waited for Kyle to text him back, he frowned as he tried the front door. Really, he couldn't think of how what they did would hurt anymore then last time, and he really didn't think Craig was THAT pissed off…then again, he was trying to be annoying, so he wasn't sure. He walked inside, and felt his way up the stairs through the darkness and then started ascending upwards towards Craig's room.

He reached Craig's door, and then texted Kyle again. The light was on underneath Craig's door, and he hesitated before he finally put his hand on the door knob and opened the door. Really, he had on his letterman, so he was hoping Craig wouldn't wreck it.

Stepping in the room and shutting the door, he looked at Craig, with his phone still in his hand.

**Craig looks up from his seat in his computer chair when he hears Stan come in. He's still extremely pissed off, and his body language probably shows it in the way none of his muscles are quite relaxed.**

"**You better tell me right fucking now if this is one of your things where you think I won't follow through because I'm fucking pissed off and I really don't think you know what you're getting yourself into," he says, his words biting and a bit icy. He won't be **_**too**_** disappointed if Stan backs out right now, because he wasn't expecting Stan to go through with it anyway, but now that the idea has planted itself in his head, he kind of wants it to happen.**

**He'd taken care not to hype himself up too much, though, because he just knows that Stan will pussy out. To clarify that, he says, "I won't get mad if you say no, but you're the one who asked for this in the first place."**

Noting how tense Craig was, Stan's hand stayed on the doorknob as he slowly put his phone in his pocket. He thought about what Kyle said about using a safe word, but then it occurred to him - how the hell do you use a safe word when you have a sock in your mouth? Somehow he felt like he wasn't taking this seriously enough, because Craig's demeanor kind of scared him, but at the same time intrigued him. It was difficult to say whether he was more afraid or more turned on, so he ended up saying, "…no, I do want this. I'm not going to back out."

Was he going to regret this? Probably, but Stan was always curious, so he was tempted to provoke Craig in any way possible to see what would happen next.

**Craig still doesn't make any moves to get out of his chair, trying to study Stan for his actual answer to that question. Does Stan really want this? Because as fucking angry as Craig is right now, he'd feel like shit for hurting Stan later on. He suddenly remembers what he got earlier, and a slow, subtle smirk spread across his face.**

**He gives Stan a purposeful look and then glances to the side, on top of his dresser where he'd laid the cuffs he'd lifted from Barbrady. Stan had pissed him off enough the day before, and what with all Stan's talking about it, Craig figured why not take them? It was such a perfect opportunity too, Barbrady wasn't even paying attention. He'd even managed to snag the keys, which are securely now in Craig's pants pocket.**

**He looks back to Stan's face to see if he'd noticed and what his reaction would be.**

Staring at the other every time he even moved, Stan still gripped the door knob as if he were going to run out of the room. When Craig finally did significantly move, and what's more, looked in the direction of something, Stan's eyebrows furrowed together as he followed the other's gaze. What, his dresser? It took him a moment to realize that there was something new there, lying on top - and then he realized somehow Craig had handcuffs. What. The. Fuck.

He vaguely remembered tying Craig with his belt, and wondered if this was some sort of strange payback - or maybe Stan moved too damn much, who knew. His expression slowly went from horrified, to slightly intrigued, to extremely uncomfortable as he removed his hand from the door knob. It was supposed to be a signal that he wasn't going to back out, but he decided to remove his letterman because he feared for his own safety- the jacket didn't stand a chance.

Slowly removing it from his shoulders and putting it on the floor, he looked at Craig and then waited for him to move again. Was he really that pissed off? Stan kind of regretted pushing the other, because he really didn't want to hurt Craig in any way - but at the same time, why was it so goddamn fun?

**When Stan removes his jacket, he raises Craig raises an interested eyebrow. Okay, so maybe Stan is into this a little more than Craig thought. He continues to stare Stan down for a few more long, drawn out seconds before lifting a hand and crooking a finger to beckon Stan. "Bring those over here," he says, meaning the handcuffs.**

**One final test to see if Stan is actually okay with this. If he agrees in any way to the use of handcuffs then fuck, Craig tried to talk him out of it, so Stan can't complain when he's sore the next day. Which he no doubt will be; Craig is raging and Stan just keeps pushing more buttons, so he's practically begging to get pounded into the floor.**

Pausing for a brief moment to consider the situation, Stan wondered if he should just leave. Nervously he eyed the door, and then looked back at Craig. If he left? He probably would piss Craig off even more, and the only reason he suggested angry sex was because he thought maybe it would save their already rocky relationship. Maybe they needed something like this to do…something for them.

Deciding to go along with it, he walked over to the dresser and picked up the handcuffs and then obediently walked over to Craig's chair. Reaching his destination, he held the handcuffs out for Craig to take, not breaking eye contact.

**Craig takes the metal cuffs in his hand, eyeing Stan to make sure he's really okay with this. In honesty, all these minutes spent worrying whether or not Stan would be okay has calmed Craig down a bit. He's still extremely pissed, but he has a little more coherent thought now. Before, he probably would have just gone at it without restraint and probably actually hurt Stan a lot. But not he has a little more sense than that.**

**He stands and gives Stan an abrupt kiss, fingering the hem of Stan's shirt. He really should take it off now so he doesn't have to rip it or something later to get it off. He pulls it upward and breaks the kiss long enough to yank it over Stan's head before returning his lips to Stan's. He presses his way into Stan's mouth, letting his tongue explore. He moves their bodies closer as he idly moves Stan's hands behind his back.**

**He hears several satisfying clicks as he closes the metal rings around Stan's writs. He makes sure not to make it tight enough to bite into Stan's skin, but there's no way he'll be getting out of those.**

Allowing Craig to remove his shirt without fighting him on it, he attempted at first to move his hands to Craig's hips as the other leaned in for a rough kiss. But as he pressed his lips against the other and dueled tongues for a moment, he realized his hands were no longer on Craig, and they were going behind him as Craig guided them. He felt the metal settle on his wrists, and then he heard the clinking as they fastened shut, binding his wrists together. Instead of backing away from Craig, he continued to press into the kiss, albeit now a bit more feverishly.

**Craig is pleased when Stan pushes more into the kiss, especially since it's after Stan has been cuffed. Okay, so that probably means Stan likes it, awesome. He grabs Stan by his hips and guides him toward the wall. He traps him there, with one arm on each side of Stan's head, boxing him in, as he continues to delve into their kiss. He sucks Stan's bottom lips between his own and rolls it between his teeth before releasing it and pressing sliding his tongue back out to war with Stan's.**

**He rocks his hips hard against Stan's, well aware of the fact that he's probably pressing Stan's wrists into the wall. That only adds to the restrained feeling, he's sure, so he keeps doing it, loving the feel of their bodies melding together in his rough grind. He's quickly getting sick of the fact that there's two layers of jeans separating them, though.**

His heart raced as he felt Craig guiding him to the wall, and then caged him in by putting his hands on either side of the wall. He appeared a bit timid as the other moved back in for another kiss, feeling the other pull on his lip with his teeth. He was still having an inner conflict on whether he was frightened beyond belief or aroused, and really, he was leaning towards the latter as Craig's tongue returned to fight with his.

As soon as the other pressed against him and forced his wrists into the wall, he felt the uncomfortable sting of metal digging into his wrist. It didn't bother him too much at first, he was more concerned with the sensation forming below, but after a few times he winced, breaking the kiss and then said quietly, "The metal's hurting my wrists." It was a pretty basic comment, and he said it passively, not wanting to irritate Craig. He gazed at the other, wondering how far he was going to go. Was his threat serious?

**Craig pauses when he hears Stan say it hurts. He considers what he should do about it, not really wanting to take them off of Stan. He hooks a finger in Stan's belt loop and tugs him toward the bed by it. He all but tosses Stan onto the bed. He watches Stan fall onto it, landing on his stomach.**

**He climbs onto the bed after Stan and straddles his hips, settling comfortably onto his ass. He leans forward and again boxes Stan in with his arms. He leans in close to Stan's ear and asks a heated, "Better?"**

**He moves his head down a little and noses lightly at the junction between Stan's neck and shoulder. He brushes his teeth over it before clamping down. He doesn't bite nearly as hard as Stan has in the past, not intent on drawing blood but only interesting in creating the sensation. He closes his lips around the bite and slowly begins a shift from an actual bite to a love bite; working the skin to a dark purple.**

After being tossed on the bed and bouncing, the air was knocked out of him momentarily. When he felt Craig move up onto his ass, he made an agitated squeaking noise and as the other asked him if it was better, he managed to say quietly, "Y-yes.." his heart beat quickly as he felt Craig nuzzling him him, but he wasn't exactly sure what the other was doing- giving him a hickey? It threw him off when Craig bit down into his flesh, and he visibly winced as he said, "Wa-wait, eugh..what are you doing.." The bite went from stinging to a dull pain, and he tried to move his wrists underneath the other but felt the metal dig in so he stopped, feeling defeated.

"**What do you **_**think**_** I'm doing?" Craig asks, thinking it pretty obvious that he's biting him. He vaguely wonders if Stan hates biting, but them remembers that Stan is the one who suggested this in the first place so it he doesn't like it, he'll get over it. He moves on to another section of shoulder, biting down again and repeating the process as he reaches his hands downward. He gets his hands under Stan's body and lifts his own weight a bit so he can work his fingers to undo Stan's belt. After he gets the pants undone, he yanks on them, bringing them down, along with Stan's boxers.**

Stan doesn't respond to Craig's question, but instead accepts the fact he's not going to get free during this. He bit his lower lip more every time Craig's teeth sank into him, and then he felt the other moving him in order to take off his pants. Really, he was thinking with all of the times he bit Craig, this was well deserved treatment for everything he did. He couldn't deny that he enjoyed it, because he was half relieved to have his pants removed, and half dreaded that Craig might actually get rougher.

**Craig pulls away from Stan's neck and shoulders to tug Stan's pants the rest of the way of off. He realizes that Stan has boots on and it annoys him that he's going to have to take them off, but then he realizes that they look untied, so he just pushes them off along with the pants. He drops them on the floor and starts to crawl back onto Stan.**

**He waits though, seeing this as the perfect opportunity to grab the supplies they need, so he goes to get them before climbing back to sit on Stan's newly bared ass. He tosses the condom and the lube to the side for now, but leans forward with his hat in hand. "I figured this would be better for you to bite down on that a sock," he says, almost tauntingly. His hat is a very personal item, so he knows it'll get Stan flustered.**

"W-what?" Stan stuttered as he realized Craig had his hat in hand. He wore it everywhere - having it be a reminder of this - good god, class would be unbearable. "Why can't we use a sock?" He complained, even though he was in no position to complain really.

"**Don't be a pussy about it; it's **_**just**_** a hat," Craig says, smirking as he all but stuffs it into Stan's mouth. In reality, Craig is having mixed feelings about it. Looking down on Stan, handcuffed on his bed with his hat shoved in his mouth is… mm, yeah, but the fact that he won't be able to hear Stan is kind of disappointing. But it's for the greater good, in the form of not waking up Craig's parents.**

**He takes a few drawn out moments all but ogling the position he'd put Stan in. Covered in bites, hair tossed, hands bound behind his back, **_**gagged with Craig's hat**_**. The full weight of the situation hits Craig and he's a little more excited about it than he thought he'd be.**

**He backs up a bit and settles himself on his knees between Stan's legs, pulling him up by his hips so that Stan is leaning on his knees. He reaches for the lube and coats his fingers with it. Without much warning, he begins his preparation.**

"What do you me-" Stan objected strongly and then ended up with a hat in his mouth. His brows furrowed together as he tried absorbing the shock instead of trying to struggle, because he really didn't want to explain handcuff marks on his wrists to anyone. He waited for Craig to move, but had the eerie realization Craig was simply watching him in his vulnerable positioning, and he tried to calm himself before he tried wriggling away. Before he could think of trying to escape, Craig moved him, and his face turned red as the other's hands were on his hips. Goddamn him, why was he still clothed? When he entered without warning, Stan closed his eyes and bit down on the goddamn hat Craig shoved in his mouth. Maybe he could tear a hole in it - that would teach Craig to use something that Stan had to look at practically every day.

**Craig works his way through the preparation, more quickly than the last time but still trying to be careful. It would be bad if he made Stan bleed or something; no, that would be… terrible. He tries not to think about it as he finishes up his preparation.**

**He pulls his fingers away and gropes around on the bed for the condom. He undoes his own pants, and the wound of his zipper sends a shiver down his spine. He pulls his jeans down enough to free himself and then he rolls on the condom. After slicking himself, he presses himself against Stan's entrance. "Hope you're ready for this," he whispers, digging his nails into Stan's hips with his own anticipation. He pushes inside.**

Pressing his eyes shut tightly as he tried to focus on chewing on Craig's hat, he groaned slightly as the other fondled him. It was hard to not think about what was going on, because he was lying flat and if he hadn't had Craig's hat in his mouth, he probably would be even more in an awkward position as his chest was flat on the bed. When he heard Craig move to unzip his pants, he opened his eyes briefly to look worriedly at the wall, wondering if the hat would actually suppress any reactions Stan had. Before he could second guess, or even try to get Craig's attention, the other dug his nails into his hips and entered him and he let out a short muffled gasp.

**Craig pushes all the way in, and then takes a second to gather his bearings. His nails bite hard into Stan's skin and drag along Stan's hip bones as Craig's hands flex with his efforts. After a second of collecting himself, Craig pulls back just so he can thrust back in. After a few pumps, he picks up a hard pace. He tries to use a little bit of self restraint, but this whole situation is making it hard to do, and he finds himself losing more and more of himself to the feelings coursing through his body; and that's not just the physical ones.**

As Craig picked up the pace, Stan's breathing grew erratic as he tried to breathe through his nose - the hat was blocking his throat. With every thrust, he felt his knees attempt to buckle, but Craig's nails dug firmly and deeply into his hips keeping him from collapsing. He had forgotten about his scheme to chew through Craig's hat, and instead locked his jaw onto it, trying to keep the tears forming in his eyes from falling - really, he was crying from being overwhelmed, not from pain. The sensations were rocketing through his body, and he could feel himself react positively, but he couldn't keep from getting emotional while so vulnerable. Goddamn Craig to hell.

Trying to say something, he instead groaned through the hat, which muffled his speech entirely. He was essentially panting in rhythm with Craig's movements.

**Even if Craig can't here Stan's actual voice, he can hear how ragged his breathing is getting, and it only drives him harder knowing that Stan is enjoying himself too. After several long, drawn out minutes, Craig doesn't think he can take it anymore. But that point he's bucking his hips so hard that he's not even sure how he's still standing on his knees.**

**He manages to hold out until he's sure Stan has come before he lets himself reach his own end. He pumps in and out a few more times, riding out his climax until he can n o longer keep himself upright. He quickly disposes of the used condom and lets himself fall beside Stan.**

**Extremely satisfied, Craig grins and opens his eyes, intending to make some kind of endearingly sarcastic comment, but when he sees Stan's face he blanches. There's tear streaks on his face.**

**He gathers any energy he has to sit up and fumble through his pocket. He pulls out the keys and quickly undoes the handcuffs and removes his hat from Stan's mouth. He sits there, frozen, not sure what to say. Had he hurt Stan? Should he apologize? Craig just stares, biting his lip and trying to keep himself from panicking. Maybe this was a bad idea.**

Trembling still after the handcuffs were removed, Stan rolled to his back - moving to grip the blankets on Craig's bed to cover his lower half. He didn't really care what Craig thought about him being girly, he was exhausted and he didn't want to be uncovered anymore. Breathing in and out for what felt like five minutes, he hadn't realized that Craig was actually sitting and staring at him, when he finally looked at him with a questioning gaze. What was his problem? He looked a bit frightened, like…oh.

Reaching up to feel his face, he realized a mixture of tears and sweat were there, and he rolled his eyes as he said, "They're tears of joy, you jackass. Stop looking at me like that."

He really didn't want to explain why he cried, because he really didn't know.

"I fucking love you.." He said quietly as he closed his eyes, still sprawled out on the bed.

**Craig still doesn't quite know what to do after Stan told him they weren't tears of pain. It was a little hard for Craig to wrap his head around after scaring himself into thinking he'd hurt Stan. He barely has time to relax, though, before Stan lets loose another 'I love you.' What's more, this one had a 'fucking' in front of it. It's getting harder and harder for Craig to convince himself that Stan doesn't mean it when he says that, especially now that Stan is sober and just let Craig completely dominate him.**

**It scares Craig that he feels inclined to say it back. But ever since that day Stan bought Stripe that toy, Craig has been getting deeper and deeper into this. He's… slowly falling. But he doesn't know if he wants to, and he definitely doesn't know if he **_**loves**_** Stan; that's taking things to such an extreme.**

**Refusing to say anything, he leans over, still clutching his hat in his hand, he presses a hard kiss to Stan's lips. It's a little desperate, and full of Craig's own inner turmoil, but its firm to let Stan know that he's not disregarding it this time. He somehow accepts 'I love you' but he doesn't know if he can say it back. At least not yet, and he hopes Stan understands that.**

Stan really hadn't thought about what he said - he was running purely on how he was feeling at the moment. Usually, saying I love you was difficult for him, unless drunk- but right now, he was sort of drunk on overpowering emotions that were tied into his physical sensations. He pressed into the kiss, his eyes still closed, but broke it off after a moment and said, "I'm really, really fucking tired."

With that, he opened his eyes and then stared at Craig for a moment - and he gently pulled the other down and then crawled over to lie next to his side. In fact, it was a lot more difficult to do this because of his exhaustion then he thought, so he collapsed next to Craig. A few seconds passed before he snaked his hand underneath Craig's shirt and left his hand draped over the other's lower back - not actually doing anything, just wanting to feel the other's skin against his own.

His eyes closed again.

**Craig just lets Stan pull him down because really, he's exhausted too, and after the scare he'd just given himself all he really wants is to sleep.**

**He feels Stan run his hand up under his shirt and relaxes into the touch. He wraps his own arm around Stan's slightly sweat slicked body and drops his hat on the other side of Stan. He holds Stan close and closes his eyes as well.**

Stan woke up in the morning, hearing distant noises of people walking around downstairs. He really wasn't sure where he was - until he started becoming less drowsy and slowly awoke to find himself in Craig's room. Naked.

"Oh, shit," He muttered under his breath as he tried moving, but found himself so sore he didn't want to move. Staring at the ceiling for a moment, he tried at least sitting, but then moved back quietly to lay on the bed when he felt all of the dull sensations from what happened yesterday radiating out from every infliction Craig made on his body. Goddamn Craig… He looked over at Craig, wondering if the other would actually wake up at a decent hour. Well…at least he had one or two more absences available in his classes.

Instead of waking the other, he grabbed Craig's hat, put it over his lower half, and then glared at the ceiling irately.

**Craig eventually wakes, the sun finally irritating enough to coax his eyes open. He hears the downstairs door slam shut, indicating that everyone had just left. What convenient timing. He turns onto his side and realizes that his legs are slightly sore. It's been a while since he's put that much vigor into something, he supposes.**

**He sees Stan laying there next to him, awake, and he's somehow really happy that that's the first thing he sees. "'Morning," he mutters, trying to ignore that thought by sitting up and running a hand through his hair.**

**He looks back down at Stan and notices that he's covered himself with Craig's hat. He cracks a crooked grin and says, "You really like my hat now, huh?"**

Stan turned his glare on Craig, his eyes narrowed dangerously thin as he glowered silently for awhile. Really, he didn't want to admit Craig was right, but at the same time, he didn't want to say he picked up Craig's hat because it was the lightest thing there and his arms were achey. He really would never be able to look at that hat again. Ever.

He contemplated on what he wanted to say. Really, he wanted ice, and a lot of it. But there was no way he could get that much ice, not even from an ice maker, if the Tuckers had one. Then again…

Finally, he said, "Go run me a hot bath and then carry me there."

If Craig was going to be snarky, well, he'd just be bitchy.

**Craig stares at Stan for a second, not expecting that to be his answer. After a second, he gives a light scoff and says, "Whatever you say, **_**Princess**_**." He's not sure why he does pretty much everything Stan asks, but at least he covers it up by being a dick about it. Like doing things for Stan is so hard, and Stan just owes him sooo much for Craig's services.**

"**I guess I have to, considering I wore you out to the point you're not going to move all day," he says, knowing it's true. Stan might be bitchy, but he does things for himself most of the time so the only reason he'd even ask is if he couldn't move.**

**Craig moves to the edge of the bed and makes to get off of it and go for the door.**

If it was possible for Stan to look anymore pissed, it was right after Craig called him Princess. Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. If he could've moved, he probably would have left without saying anything. He waited for Craig to go run the bath, and he sincerely hoped sitting in it for at least an hour made it easier for him to move. Goddamn Craig and his goddamn anger issues and stupid great awesome sex, Stan thought irately. He was a real bastard.

**Craig makes his way down the stairs and into the bathroom. He turns the hot water on and makes sure it's warm instead of scalding. He plugs up the bottom of the tub and lets it run while he goes back up the stairs to get Stan. He re enters his room and moves over to the side of the bed. Okay, he's actually going to pick Stan up, that's not weird. He gives Stan a look as he puts one arm under Stan's back and one under his knees. "Not being a dick, but tell me if it hurts," he says, starting to lift Stan off the mattress.**

"Of course it fucking hurts, just lift me," Stan demanded hotly, trying to keep his cool but finding it extremely difficult. The pain was actually there and did increase when he was moved, but he closed his eyes in order to focus it away as the other picked him up. He'd get over it. It wasn't like he hadn't been plowed over a few times during football practice….though, thankfully, he had never been plowed in the ass during football practice, so this was technically a new type of pain.

**Craig continues to lift Stan, considering Stan said it was okay. He picks him all the way up and holds him in his arms bridal-style. He shuffles down the stairs sideways to keep Stan from hitting the walls and sets him down in the tub once he gets to the bathroom. He shuts off the water and turns to head out of the bathroom, intending on throwing his messed up bedding in the wash and probably changing clothes.**

Stan sat in the tub for a good five minutes, and had sunk down against the back of the tub. He was almost under water, his face barely above the surface as he sat there sulking. He vaguely wondered if Craig would come back and bring clothes with him, or expect him to walk out naked.

"Bastard," He muttered under his breath after another five minutes passed, not knowing if Craig would ever return.

**After throwing his bedding in the laundry – adding his own and Stan's dirtied clothes – he returns back upstairs to grab a couple pairs of shorts. He heads back down to the bathroom, not caring that he's undressed because no one is home anyway. He re-enters the bathroom and says, "Now I can either put these shorts on and sit in here, or I can leave you alone, or I can get in the damn tub; what do you want?"**

Still sulking, Stan slowly moved forwards, his eyes narrowed as he sat up slowly and motioned to behind him. "I want to lay on you, get your ass in here." Really, he just wanted to cuddle, but he wasn't going to make it sound cute. He waited patiently for the other to climb in the tub, though he looked a little bit miserable as he sat there. He still wouldn't admit Craig was right, though.

**Craig drops the shorts and makes his way over to the tub. He slides in behind Stan and lets his legs fit on either side of Stan's torso so that they can both fit comfortably. He lets his arms rest on the water on either side of Stan, not sure what Stan wants him to do with them. Is Stan too sore to be held?**

Noticing that Craig's arms weren't going around him, he slowly sunk down against the other's chest and went back to sulking with his head barely above the water. It did press him against Craig, but he really didn't care, he was too sore to give a shit. Slowly but painfully reaching behind him, he grabbed Craig's arms and put one hand on his head, and then the other on his shoulder so he could hold it. He figured that was self-explanatory enough.

**Craig lets Stan move his arms and as soon as his hand hits Stan hair he starts to play with it. He runs his fingers through it and stares down at Stan. He feels like he should be speaking, but nothing is really coming to mind to say. He has a feeling this is going to be a long, slow day, considering Stan can barely move. Which, actually, makes Craig want to laugh because Stan thought he'd be able to handle it. Well, at the time Stan actually handled it pretty well, but the after effects are clearly getting to him.**

**Continuing to think about the events that played out the previous night, he frowned. He'd actually really thought he hurt Stan, and that scared the shit out of him. And then Stan just blew it off – which Craig was actually thankful for, for once – and then he… he said he loves Craig again. Craig tries to shake the thought, really not wanting to focus on it.**

After awhile had passed, and Stan almost drifted off twice, he finally felt the lukewarm water had turned a bit chilly. He slowly moved upwards, glancing at his pruned fingers as he turned to look at Craig, and then lifted himself out of the tub with a little bit of difficulty. He was getting over it though, even though it was still harder then hell to ignore- he really wished he had some Bengay or something. Grabbing a towel, he dried himself off and then wrapped it around his waist and grabbed another to hold it out to Craig.

**Craig steps out of the tub behind Stan, reaching back to unplug the drain. He takes the towel and starts to dry himself off, wondering how much pain Stan is in to be standing up. Will he be able to walk up the stairs again on his own? "You good?" he asks, pulling on one of the pairs of shorts he'd brought down. "Those other shorts were for you," he comments, not really caring if Stan puts them on or not. Hey, if Stan wants to go nude all day, more power to him.**

Stan looked over at the shorts, and then sighed as he walked over and pulled them on after removing the towel. He leaned against the counter to do so, and then looked over at Craig and said, "So are we going back to your room…?"

**Craig watches Stan lean against the counter just to put the shorts on, and he feels bad, but he can't help the other warm feeling in his stomach. He did that to Stan; he can't even stand because he got plowed so hard. He tries not to think about it because there's no chance of getting any today with Stan this sore.**

"**Yeah," he answers when Stan asks if they're going to his room. He'd figured that they'd just lay in bed all day, anyway. He holds out a hand in case Stan wants help.**

"I don't need your hand…" Stan said quietly as he walked out of the bathroom and turned the corner to go up the steps. He did grip the railing extremely hard, and unless the other was focusing on him completely, he was certain he couldn't tell he was having difficulties maneuvering his way back up to Craig's room. Once he got there however, he crawled back on Craig's bed and curled up on his side as he sighed.

**Craig watches Stan go, and only scoffs once Stan's exited the bathroom. What a bitch. He just follows after Stan and stays behind him on the stairs in case he falls or something else stupid. He shuts the door as Stan lays on the bed, and then goes over to lie next to him. He puts an arm lightly over Stan, not hugging him close like he normally would because he doesn't want Stan to be uncomfortable.**

Mumbling something quietly, that was inaudible, Stan put his arm instinctively on Craig's and then pressed against him as he shut his eyes and frowned. Really, he wasn't feeling good, and he just wanted to be comfortable. With a sigh, he said, "I'm going back to sleep…" quietly.

"**Alright," Craig says, already having expected that. He smiles when Stan presses back against him and buries his nose in the back of Stan's head, a way of saying good night without turning Stan around for a kiss. Even if it's the morning, he knows they'll be there all day.**


	18. 05 24 2012

05.24.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh:** hey craig

**Craig Tucker:** Hey

**Stan Marsh:** if kenny moved into my basement would you have a problem with it?

**Craig Tucker:** Um, no… why would I have a problem?

**Stan Marsh:** i don't know

**Stan Marsh:** okay, whatever

**Stan Marsh:** i'll ask my dad

**Stan Marsh:** I've been avoiding it

**Craig Tucker:** Why?

**Stan Marsh:** It's not like we can hang out at my house then

**Craig Tucker:** What's wrong with my house?

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know

**Craig Tucker:** Well hey, I have a question

**Stan Marsh:** yeah?

**Craig Tucker:** If, hypothetically, someone wanted to date Wendy, would you be okay with that?

**Stan Marsh:** …who wants to date Wendy

**Craig Tucker:** Does it matter? This is hypothetical. Besides, you shouldn't care, right?

**Stan Marsh:** nothing is hypothetical in hs and you know it

**Stan Marsh:** ..I guess I shouldn't care, sorry

**Craig Tucker:** It's hypothetical because I was seeing if you liked me enough to not care, okay

**Stan Marsh:** I was with wendy for like six years, give me a break

**Craig Tucker:** I get that, but would you be okay with her seeing someone else? After all, you started seeing me, well, the day before you broke up. So it's not like it's too soon or anything

**Stan Marsh:** ugh..

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know

**Stan Marsh:** do we have to talk about this now

**Craig Tucker:** I guess not, but I kind of wanted an answer

**Stan Marsh:** why

**Craig Tucker:** Because I don't know

**Stan Marsh:** …oh my god you know who wants to date wendy

**Stan Marsh:** who is it

**Craig Tucker:** No one, I was asking for me, remember?

**Stan Marsh:** …

**Craig Tucker:** What

**Stan Marsh:** why are you bringing it up

**Craig Tucker:** Never mind, I don't care anymore, you're mine so I don't care

**Stan Marsh:** …I'm yours?

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, isn't that what it means when you say someone is your boyfriend?

**Stan Marsh:** You don't own me

**Craig Tucker:** Okay.

**Stan Marsh:** ..nevermind

**Craig Tucker:** What

**Stan Marsh:** if I'm yours, you're mine

**Stan Marsh:** I'm okay with that

**Craig Tucker:** Duh

**Stan Marsh:** why were you scared last night?

**Craig Tucker:** Scared?

**Stan Marsh:** After…that

**Craig Tucker:** Dude, you were crying.

**Stan Marsh:** …I cry over a lot of things

**Craig Tucker:** I thought I hurt you or something; I was about to never have fucking sex again

**Stan Marsh:** if I cried during sex you'd never do it again?

**Craig Tucker:** You _did_ cry. But no, if I thought I fucked something up, I don't know

**Craig Tucker:** If I would have hurt you during sex I probably wouldn't have ever touched you again, just saying

**Stan Marsh:** I would have told you

**Craig Tucker:** You were crying, what the fuck was I supposed to think I did?

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know

**Stan Marsh:** I wasn't telling you to fuck off

**Stan Marsh:** I thought it was obvious I was happy

**Craig Tucker:** It doesn't matter, okay? It was fine, so we can move on now

**Stan Marsh:** just fine?

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, you didn't get hurt so everything is fine

**Stan Marsh:** …how did you feel after

**Craig Tucker:** Fucking scared, you already knew that

**Stan Marsh:** No, like

**Stan Marsh:** did you enjoy that

**Stan Marsh:** before

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, why else would I have done it?

**Stan Marsh:** ….

**Craig Tucker:** What

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know

**Stan Marsh:** you don't think I'm a freak for being turned on by that, do you

**Craig Tucker:** Well I already though you were a freak

**Stan Marsh:** thanks.

**Craig Tucker:** Relax, it's cool with me

**Stan Marsh:** I thought you weren't into that

**Craig Tucker:** Into what? I'm into

**Craig Tucker:** Never mind

**Stan Marsh:** so you're into bounding and gagging me?

**Craig Tucker:** …I'm into _you_, dumbass.

**Stan Marsh:** ….

**Craig Tucker:** So yeah, I guess I'm into tying you up and gagging you with my hat

**Stan Marsh:** …that's sort of awesome

**Craig Tucker:** So that was "interesting" enough for you?

**Stan Marsh:** I guess

**Craig Tucker:** That's good 'cause I stole those cuffs from Barbrady

**Craig Tucker:** Worth the risk, I guess

**Stan Marsh:** …are you really that broke?

**Craig Tucker:** No, but his had keys

**Stan Marsh:** Because I can give you money for stuff if you want it

**Craig Tucker:** The ones you can buy in shops are generally key-less. Besides, he was right there, and he never pays attention anyway, why would I drive to Denver

**Stan Marsh:** …are you still angry with me?

**Craig Tucker:** No, I'm not

**Stan Marsh:** Okay

**Stan Marsh:** …..

**Craig Tucker:** What?

**Stan Marsh:** nothing

**Craig Tucker:** Ugh, you really need to stop saying "nothing" when you want something from me because normally I won't ask more than once

**Stan Marsh:** I don't want anything

**Craig Tucker:** Okay

**Stan Marsh:** …we don't do a whole lot that isn't sex.

**Craig Tucker:** Sure we do. We fight and we cuddle and talk about animals and stuff

**Stan Marsh:** …..I kind of want to go on a date with you

**Craig Tucker:** Um, where?

**Stan Marsh:** …where do you want to go?

**Craig Tucker:** You're the one that wants to go on a date, how should I know?

**Stan Marsh:** can we go watch the stars?

**Craig Tucker:** If that's what you want to do, yeah

**Stan Marsh:** I leave tomorrow for the mountains with kyle and Kenny

**Stan Marsh:** did you want to do it tonight or wait until I get back?

**Stan Marsh:** you said you weren't getting a lot of sleep..

**Stan Marsh:** craig?

**Craig Tucker:** Sorry, zoned out there for a second, if you want to go tonight we can

**Stan Marsh:** you ok?

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, I'm okay

**Stan Marsh:** ok..

**Craig Tucker:** You want to go tonight?

**Stan Marsh:** Yeah if you want

**Stan Marsh:** if you want to sleep, we don't have to

**Stan Marsh:** I should probably sleep too

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, you wouldn't want to fall asleep during camping activities

**Stan Marsh:** …are you making fun of me?

**Craig Tucker:** No, I'm just saying you should get some sleep

**Stan Marsh:** …ok

**Stan Marsh:** …is something bothering you

**Craig Tucker:** No, I'm just tired

**Stan Marsh:** should probably sleep then

**Craig Tucker:** I can go if you want, it's not like we'll be running around

**Stan Marsh:** no, seriously

**Stan Marsh:** it's okay

**Stan Marsh:** we don't have to spend every night together

**Craig Tucker:** Uh, okay, I guess I'll just see you when you get back from camping then

**Stan Marsh:** …

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah?

**Stan Marsh:** I forgot I wasn't going to see you for three days

**Craig Tucker:** Then come see me in the morning before you go

**Stan Marsh:** I didn't think of it actually..

**Stan Marsh:** …sigh

**Craig Tucker:** Is it going to be that hard?

**Stan Marsh:** …yeah

**Craig Tucker:** Just, I don't know, text me

**Stan Marsh:** like there's going to be reception in the fucking mountains

**Craig Tucker:** There's nothing I can do, what do you want me to say?

**Stan Marsh:** nothing..

**Craig Tucker:** It'll be okay, I'll be here when you get back

**Stan Marsh:** there's going to be alcohol

**Craig Tucker:** Um

**Craig Tucker:** Then don't drink it?

**Stan Marsh:** I'm going to try not to

**Stan Marsh:** Kyle said that it was okay for me to have one or two but I don't know

**Craig Tucker:** I would say it's okay too, but I've never seen you tipsy; will you stop after one?

**Stan Marsh:** No

**Craig Tucker:** Then don't drink it

**Stan Marsh:** ugh..

**Craig Tucker:** I mean, I guess I can't stop you, but… whatever

**Stan Marsh:** I don't want to drink

**Craig Tucker:** Then don't

**Stan Marsh:** okay…

**Stan Marsh:** I don't want to spend three nights without you

**Craig Tucker:** …then don't

**Stan Marsh:** I'm going to be in the mountains

**Craig Tucker:** Come back early or something

**Stan Marsh:** On my friend's birthday weekend

**Stan Marsh:** yeah

**Stan Marsh:** that'll go over well

**Craig Tucker:** I don't know what to tell you, then, I'm not magic

**Stan Marsh:** can I ask them if you can come

**Craig Tucker:** They already said no, and I couldn't do that to Kenny

**Stan Marsh:** can you like set up a tent a few yards away and I just go there at night

**Craig Tucker:** Really. You want me to sit in a tent by myself all weekend and wait for you to come back at night?

**Stan Marsh:** …yeah

**Craig Tucker:** Ugh, really?

**Stan Marsh:** ….would you do it?

**Craig Tucker:** …maybe

**Stan Marsh:** you said you hate camping

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, and?

**Stan Marsh:** ….

**Stan Marsh:** we'd have to avoid kenny and kyle finding out

**Craig Tucker:** Wouldn't that be the point in me staying in a different tent

**Stan Marsh:** Yeah

**Stan Marsh:** It's going to be hot Saturday

**Craig Tucker:** Great, I'll bring plenty of water and snack food so I don't die

**Stan Marsh:** there's streams around..

**Stan Marsh:** …we could go skinny-dipping

**Craig Tucker:** Because Kenny and Kyle wouldn't see that

**Stan Marsh:** We wouldn't tell them

**Stan Marsh:** we could do it at night

**Craig Tucker:** Fine, whatever

**Stan Marsh:** I love you

**Craig Tucker:** …

**Stan Marsh:** …what

**Craig Tucker:** I just don't know what to say to that

**Stan Marsh:** …oh

**Stan Marsh:** …I don't really care if you respond to it?

**Craig Tucker:** Thanks, that really makes it easier

**Stan Marsh:** are you being sarcastic

**Craig Tucker:** Yes I'm being fucking sarcastic, of course you care

**Craig Tucker:** Otherwise you wouldn't say it

**Stan Marsh:** sorry..

**Craig Tucker:** Don't be sorry for having feelings, Christ

**Stan Marsh:** What the fuck am I supposed to say

**Craig Tucker:** That's what I'm trying to figure out

**Stan Marsh: **what do you mean?

**Craig Tucker: **What do you mean what do I mean?

**Craig Tucker: **…do you actually mean that, though?

**Stan Marsh: **…well, yeah.

**Stan Marsh: **are you a commitment phobe?

**Craig Tucker: **No, I just like to know I really mean it before I say it

**Craig Tucker: **And I don't know if it's really that intense yet…

**Stan Marsh: **…..ok

**Stan Marsh: **…it's not intense for you?

**Craig Tucker: **No, it's pretty damn intense, I just, um

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know if I could call it love, dude

**Craig Tucker: **That's a lot

**Stan Marsh: **I guess…

**Craig Tucker: **I'm sorry… ugh

**Stan Marsh: **why are you sorry?

**Craig Tucker: **Because I know that fucking hurts, but I can't say it if I'm not sure

**Stan Marsh: **It's okay

**Craig Tucker: **…

**Stan Marsh: **what

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not going to tell you something like you fucking bastard why won't you return my affection

**Stan Marsh: **that'd be stupid

**Stan Marsh: **you'll say it eventually when you want to

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah…

**Stan Marsh: **you okay with that?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Craig Tucker: **Why wouldn't I be?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **I just got used to saying I love you all the time

**Stan Marsh: **I mean, I mean it

**Stan Marsh: **But it's easier to say

**Stan Marsh: **the camping trip is postponed until the weekend after garrison's stupid field trip

**Stan Marsh: **it's going to storm all weekend

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, we won't go then, but you really actually mean it?

**Stan Marsh: **….

**Stan Marsh: **Yes

**Craig Tucker: **That

**Craig Tucker: **Um

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't get you

**Stan Marsh: **what are you trying to get at?

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, never mind

**Stan Marsh: **am I not supposed to love you?

**Craig Tucker: **No, you are, I mean

**Craig Tucker: **I just don't understand

**Stan Marsh: **…why

**Stan Marsh: **what's there to not understand

**Craig Tucker: **I haven't done anything to make you love me

**Stan Marsh: **…..

**Stan Marsh: **are you serious

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Craig Tucker: **We get along well enough now, but I haven't _done_ anything.

**Craig Tucker: **We just… fight and lay around, and sometimes fuck around

**Stan Marsh: **…does there have to be a specific incidence that makes someone love another person

**Stan Marsh: **Because I don't get that

**Craig Tucker: **No, there doesn't

**Craig Tucker: **Like I said, just never mind

**Stan Marsh: **no, really

**Stan Marsh: **do you want me to elaborate?

**Craig Tucker: **Kind of.

**Stan Marsh: **…kind of?

**Craig Tucker: **Well all I ever do is be as much of a dick as possible and somehow that means you love me, so yeah, I'd like to know but I'm trying to drop the subject

**Stan Marsh: **well if you don't want to know I don't have to talk about it

**Stan Marsh: **we can drop the subject

**Craig Tucker: **I just told you I want to know but I feel like a dick for asking

**Stan Marsh: **um..

**Stan Marsh: **I've liked you since the locker room..when I saw you on the floor

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, and I've liked you since you bought Stripe that toy. Or, I guess if you want to get technical, since you played with my hair and we fell asleep before they took us to the hospital.. but that's not what I asked

**Craig Tucker: **You know what, never mind, it's okay

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Stan Marsh: **You don't get it

**Craig Tucker: **No, I don't, but that's okay. Maybe I'm not supposed to get it.

**Stan Marsh: **my friends usually dump me off somewhere when I get at my worst.

**Stan Marsh: **maybe it was because we were trapped in the room but

**Stan Marsh: **you actually took care of me…I don't know.

**Stan Marsh: **and it sort of evolved from there…

**Craig Tucker: **Damnit Stan… okay.

**Craig Tucker: **Um.

**Stan Marsh: **…..

**Craig Tucker: **…

**Stan Marsh: **what?

**Craig Tucker: **Just give me a damn second here

**Craig Tucker: **Never mind.

**Stan Marsh: **…..

**Craig Tucker: **What

**Stan Marsh: **ugh…I'm going to go to bed

**Craig Tucker: **Okay..

**Stan Marsh: **night

**Craig Tucker: **Good night, Stan.

**Stan Marsh: **have good dreams, Craig

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, you too

**Stan Marsh: **did you want me to stay?

**Craig Tucker: **No, you need sleep, go ahead. I'll probably just go to bed, too

**Stan Marsh: **Well if you need a damn second

**Stan Marsh: **I can give you a damn second

**Craig Tucker: **For what?

**Stan Marsh: **You said you needed one

**Craig Tucker: **Did I?

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **do I need to copy and paste

**Craig Tucker: **…no

**Stan Marsh: **you know what

**Stan Marsh: **Maybe I'll just stay up and list the ways I love you

**Craig Tucker: **…

**Stan Marsh: **would that bother you?

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Stan Marsh: **I love you because you almost broke my hand when I tried petting stripe…because I feel the same way about my pets

**Stan Marsh: **I love how you helped me take care of mellow when you didn't have to

**Stan Marsh: **I love how you hold me

**Stan Marsh: **I love the way you look at me

**Stan Marsh: **I love fighting with you because it makes me actually do something instead of ignore it

**Stan Marsh: **I love how you look when you're asleep

**Stan Marsh: **but I have to say, I think I might love something else more

**Craig Tucker: **Uh, what?

**Stan Marsh: **…your hat.

**Craig Tucker: **Really.

**Stan Marsh: **really.

**Stan Marsh: **It's a really great hat.

**Craig Tucker: **I like it too, that's why I wear it.

**Stan Marsh: **but it might be that I love it because it's yours and I love you.

**Stan Marsh: **I could get more intimate, but I have a feeling you're like, cringing at the screen as it is

**Craig Tucker: **No really, keep going, I like feeling like a dick

**Stan Marsh: **why do you feel like a dick?

**Craig Tucker: **Because you're listing all these reasons you love me and I'm not saying anything because I don't know how to respond, that's why

**Craig Tucker: **Normally someone would at least say "thanks"

**Stan Marsh: **and you just said it

**Craig Tucker: **I guess

**Stan Marsh: **hey craig…

**Craig Tucker: **What?

**Stan Marsh: **I love the way I make you uncomfortable because it's adorable

**Craig Tucker: **ugh

**Stan Marsh: **you walked into that one

**Craig Tucker: **I guess I did

**Stan Marsh: **I think I'm going to go sleep though

**Stan Marsh: **sorry, I'll have to continue torturing you tomorrow or something.

**Craig Tucker: **Joy

**Craig Tucker: **Good night, then

**Stan Marsh: **hey…

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not even going to ask what because I know what's coming

**Stan Marsh: **you do not

**Craig Tucker: **Fine, I'll humor you. What?

**Stan Marsh: **if we go star gazing before the 28th, we could see the end of eta aquarid meteor shower.

**Craig Tucker: **I take it that's something you want to do?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah.

**Stan Marsh: **because I love you.

**Craig Tucker: **Alright, we can go then, since the camping thing was cancelled anyway

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **Now I'm going to bed

**Craig Tucker: **Alright, good night

**Stan Marsh: **good night, love

**Craig Tucker: **Night, Princess


	19. 05 25 2012

05.25.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh: - **how's class.

**Craig Tucker: - **How the Hell do you think class is?

**Stan Marsh: - **obviously it's fun

**Craig Tucker: - **Loads

**Stan Marsh: - **yeah

**Stan Marsh: - **can't imagine anywhere else I want to be right now

**Craig Tucker: - **Nope

**Craig Tucker: - **Not at all

**Stan Marsh: - **maybe a bathroom stall though

**Stan Marsh: - **going down on you

**Craig Tucker: - **Hmm, maybe

**Stan Marsh: - **you know, digging into your hips like you did to me

**Craig Tucker: - **If you're trying to be distracting, it's working

**Stan Marsh: - **awesome

**Stan Marsh: - **too bad I can't get out of class

**Stan Marsh: - **we could totally make that happen

**Stan Marsh: - **I really want you in my mouth right now

**Craig Tucker: - **…

**Stan Marsh: - **what?

**Craig Tucker: - **You're way too excited about this

**Craig Tucker: - **What are you doing

**Stan Marsh: - **Math

**Craig Tucker: - **So you like math, huh

**Stan Marsh: - **No, I'm in math right now

**Stan Marsh: - **doing math

**Craig Tucker: - **Why would you be doing math if you're not in math

**Stan Marsh: - **very funny

**Craig Tucker: - **What's funny?

**Stan Marsh: - **nothing

**Craig Tucker: - **Okay whatever

**Stan Marsh: - **it's just really hard to do math right now

**Stan Marsh: - **trying to think about it and not about sucking you off

**Craig Tucker: - **Then leave math and come here, I wasn't in class anyway

**Stan Marsh: - **we've missed too many days

**Stan Marsh: - **where are you at?

**Craig Tucker: - **It's a trip to the bathroom, not a day off

**Craig Tucker: - **The bathroom, where else do I hide from teachers

**Stan Marsh: - **you hide in the bathroom…really

**Craig Tucker: - **Or outside, but something tells me you don't want to go outside

**Stan Marsh: - **no, I really don't want to suck you dry in front of a crowd

**Craig Tucker: - **There's no one out there most of the time

**Stan Marsh: - **most of the time.

**Craig Tucker: - **Yeah. But I'm not out there anyway. Who's your teacher?

**Stan Marsh: - **why?

**Craig Tucker: - **Just answer the damn question

**Stan Marsh: - **mrs. Wells

**Stan Marsh: - **why?

**Craig Tucker: - **Hey, look outside the window in the door

**Stan Marsh: - **…you're a bitch

**Craig Tucker: - **Yep

**Stan Marsh: - **I'm not going to look at you

**Craig Tucker: - **Yes you are

**Stan Marsh: - **nope

**Craig Tucker: - **Sure

**Stan Marsh: - **it doesn't matter, I can't leave class anyways

**Stan Marsh: - **did you not notice we're taking a quiz

**Craig Tucker: - **Why would I be looking at your desk

**Craig Tucker: - **You're not paying attention to the quiz anyway, you're thinking about my dick

**Craig Tucker: - **So just say you gotta take a piss

**Stan Marsh: - **maybe I am paying attention to the quiz

**Craig Tucker: - **Uh huh that's why you messaged me

**Stan Marsh: - **yep

**Craig Tucker: - **So I'll just stand out here and keep staring you down and let you finish your quiz in peace

**Stan Marsh: - **can't not think about my lips huh?

**Craig Tucker: - **Nah, I just like torturing you

**Stan Marsh: - **really

**Stan Marsh: - **seriously jfc go away

**Craig Tucker: - **Why should I?

**Stan Marsh: - **because I'm going to fail everything and get thrown off my teams

**Craig Tucker: - **You're not going to fail everything for going to the bathroom once

**Stan Marsh: - **we can't leave during a freaking quiz

**Craig Tucker: - **It's a quiz, how long can it take?

**Stan Marsh: - **the whole goddamn hour

**Stan Marsh: - **look class is out in thirty

**Stan Marsh: - **just wait

**Craig Tucker: - **Okay, I'll wait out here

**Craig Tucker: - **Have fun with your quiz

**Stan Marsh: - **you're a fucking bastard

**Craig Tucker: - **Hey my hat is really warm today

**Stan Marsh: - **you're a dick

**Craig Tucker: - **I /have/ a dick, yes

**Stan Marsh: - **bastard

**Craig Tucker: - **Well enjoy yourself, I'm going to go back to class since your quiz is so important

**Craig Tucker: - **See you after school

**Stan Marsh: - **are you really leaving

**Craig Tucker: - **Yep

**Stan Marsh: - **really

**Craig Tucker: - **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: - **..why

**Craig Tucker: - **Because why would I stand here and watch you take a quiz

**Craig Tucker: - **Aside from the fact that it's fun to make you extremely uncomfortable

**Stan Marsh: - **bastard

**Stan Marsh: - **fine, leave

**Craig Tucker: - **I did

**Stan Marsh: - **come back

**Craig Tucker: - **Why

**Stan Marsh: - **i want you

**Craig Tucker: - **Yeah, you said that but you're not leaving class

**Stan Marsh: - **I'll just say I'm sick

**Stan Marsh: - **come back?

**Craig Tucker: - **You've missed too many days, football, stuff

**Stan Marsh: - **fuck football

**Craig Tucker: - **Fuck football. Really.

**Stan Marsh: - **yeah

**Craig Tucker: - **You're going to risk your spot on the team to blow me in the school bathroom

**Craig Tucker: - **Okay, get out of class then

**Stan Marsh: - **yep

**Stan Marsh: - **don't you want the star quarterback on your cock?

**Craig Tucker: - **I don't care about sports, dumbass, I just want you on my cock

**Stan Marsh: - **really

**Craig Tucker: - **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: - **doesn't seem like you want me on it that much

**Stan Marsh: - **if you left

**Craig Tucker: - **No I didn't, I just knew you'd tell me to come back so I moved to the wall

**Stan Marsh: - **…really

**Stan Marsh: - **stick your hand out then

**Craig Tucker: - **Okay

**Stan Marsh: - **…did you just flip me off

**Craig Tucker: - **Yep

**Stan Marsh: - **you're an asshole

**Craig Tucker: - **Why, for being able to predict my boyfriend? Okay

**Craig Tucker: - **Are you cutting class or not

**Stan Marsh: - **I don't know now

**Stan Marsh: - **you're teasing me

**Craig Tucker: - **Fine, then I'm actually leaving this time because I've been on an unnaturally long bathroom break already

**Stan Marsh: - **…really

**Craig Tucker: - **Yeah, my mom will kill me if I skip another whole hour

**Craig Tucker: - **So if you're not skipping I'm going back

**Stan Marsh: - **so if I sucked you off multiple times for a whole hour you'd get in trouble, huh

**Craig Tucker: - **Yeah, she's pissed that I've been missing so much school. She's a scary bitch, you know

**Stan Marsh: - **then go back to class I guess

**Craig Tucker: - **Fine

**Craig Tucker: - **But you should go with me

**Stan Marsh: - **…to class?

**Craig Tucker: - **No, to the bathroom

**Stan Marsh: - **why

**Craig Tucker: - **Because I want you to.

**Stan Marsh: - **….why

**Craig Tucker: - **Is it a bad thing?

**Stan Marsh: - **no

**Craig Tucker: - **Then come with me.

**Stan Marsh: - **Fine

* * *

Raising his hand, the teacher looked up from her desk and said, "Yes Marsh?"

"I feel sick," He said after a moment, having pocketed his phone in his letterman. She stared at him for a moment, and then said, "Have you finished your quiz?"

"Yeah." Really, he had jotted down random numbers and hoped it was somewhat close to what they were supposed to be. Getting up and handing it to her, she said, "Okay, have a good weekend."

"Thanks." He said, and then turned and opened the door- slipping out to look at Craig around the corner as he shut the door.

**Craig watches Stan come out of the classroom and gives him a knowing smirk. Stan is so fucking whipped it's not even funny; he'd do anything if Craig said he wanted him to do it. Then again, Craig does pretty much everything Stan asks, too, but that's only because he feels like it. If he didn't want to do something, he wouldn't, but he's pretty sure Stan might have just failed a quiz to get out here.**

"**Hey," he greets casually, still leaning against the wall of Stan's classroom. He's actually a little excited, if Stan actually wants to follow through with what he was saying. Most everyone Craig had ever been with wouldn't never have suggested something like this.**

"**You wanna get out of the hallway?" he asks. Someone could see them skipping if they stayed in the hall, and either way, He wants to be somewhere behind a locked door.**

Stan's eyes narrowed when he saw the other's casual stance, as if he hadn't been turned on at all by their sexting. What a bastard. Walking over to Craig, he grabbed the other's hand and started walking off towards the bathroom. It was just around the corner from Stan's class, so it wasn't like he had to drag Craig far.

He wasn't going to talk though - he was too pissed off that Craig was acting so flippant about their meeting. After all, he had just failed a quiz to blow him - the least he could do was show some sort of emotion other than pure assholeness.

**Craig isn't very surprised when Stan starts to drag him, because really, Craig is doing a pretty good job pissing the other off today. He does however, feel a bit light when Stan grabs his hand. True, it's not traditional hand holding, but that's something they haven't done yet. It makes him think about them walking around somewhere, just freely holding hands. Somehow the thought doesn't make him cringe like it would have at the start of all this. It might be nice, actually. He just remains silent as Stan drags him through the hall.**

Once Stan opened the door to the bathroom, he yanked Craig inside and pulled him to the nearest stall - the one against the brick wall. Pushing Craig inside, he walked into the stall as well and secured the latch behind them. Then he pushed Craig against the wall, the toilet just a few feet from them and the toilet paper dispenser behind Stan. His fists were balled up, gripping Craig's hoodie. Staring at the other for a moment, he moved in to kiss him on the lips, pressing in extremely hard.

**Craig doesn't even really have time to react between being pulled into the bathroom and shoved against the wall. When Stan moves in to kiss him, he decides that he likes angry Stan. This is going to be fun.**

**He lets his arms fall into place around Stan's waist and pushes back into the kiss with just as much vigor. He slides his tongue across Stan's lips. He would have just pushed inside, but he doesn't want his tongue getting bitten of or something while Stan is pissed off.**

Feeling the other's tongue brush along his lip, he moved in to run his teeth over it, as if he could read Craig's mind. He didn't bite it off though, and instead pushed his own tongue inside Craig's mouth and explored the back of his teeth. Acting a bit feverish, he moved his hands downwards and as his mouth worked, his fingers toyed with the button on Craig's jeans, and then the zipper.

**Craig moves his hands up the back of Stan's shirt, just to be able to feel his skin, as his tongue continues to battle with Stan's. Letting Stan dominate the kiss is a little weird, but he doesn't complain about it. He just lets it go for a moment before lightly sucking on Stan's tongue and then pushing back with his own, transferring the weight of the kiss into Stan's mouth instead. He can feel Stan's fingers opening his pants and it's making his blood pump just a little too hard.**

Pulling down the zipper and then pushing Craig's pants down a little, his fingers crept around the lining of Craig's boxers and pushed those down a little too. He still played tongue hockey with the other though, until he grabbed Craig firmly in his hand and then looked him in the eyes as he hovered extremely close to the other's face.

"So how long did you say we had…or can I just go until you pass out."

**Craig gives a short, breathy laugh at that, his breathing being a little short from their prolonged kiss. "You can go as long as you damn well please," he says. He runs a hand through the back of Stan's hair and grips onto it, letting his eyes fall half mast. "As long as you get me off at least once," he adds lowly, bringing Stan in for another kiss.**

**Really, he can't understand why Stan likes giving head, but Craig will be damned if he doesn't enjoy it. Having a boyfriend who actually **_**likes**_** sucking cock is definitely a good thing.**

Feeling the other's hand grip his hair tightly, he gave him a half coy grin as he sunk down, his eyes on Craig as he descended towards his target. Once on his knees he looked up at Craig, his eyebrows raised a bit as he stared at the other with the grin still on his lips. "So you said at least once…how many times do you think you can go?"

"**Why don't you test me and find out for yourself?" Craig shoots back, his own mock grin showing on his face. He teases his hand through Stan's hair and vaguely wonders why he's not wearing his hat. Then and idea strikes him, and he almost wants to snicker with it's dickishness. He reaches up on his own head to pull his hat off, and then puts it on Stan. "For encouragement," he says with a faux sweet tone. He replaces his hand on the back of Stan's head, using the other to support himself against the wall.**

Feeling Craig's hat being pulled onto his head, for a moment he looked slightly unsettled as he glared at Craig from his knees. "You're a real bastard," He said as he glowered at the other, still holding him. Why did he do things like this? Did he want Stan pissed off? Then again…

He ran his tongue along Craig, for a moment still glaring at the other and then he took him in his mouth a bit hungrily, working him as he usually did as he moved to press his hands against the other's hips. Mimicking what Craig had done to him, he dug his fingernails deep in the other's hips.

**Craig is momentarily transfixed by Stan's eyes as the other licks him. When Stan takes him in, he lets his head fall against the bricked wall. With the added sensation of Stan's nails in his hips, Craig manages to get out a shaky, "You still got marks?" He feels a strange kind of excited, thinking that Stan's nails might leave marks, too.**

Responding only by digging his fingernails in more, to the point he feels them sinking into Craig's hips to the point he could feel the outline of the other's bone underneath, he continued to work himself around the other.

**After near 20 minutes of nails, tongue, and teeth, with quite a bit of mixed in bantering, Craig is startled to hear the last bell. "Shit!" he mutters, trying to right his clothing and calm his ragged breathing. What if someone comes in the bathroom? Besides, Craig has to get his work from his classroom before they lock up for the weekend. In his slightly frenzied movements, he catches sight of Stan and just kind of stops.**

**Stan looks really good with his cheeks slightly colored and his eyes all cloudy and his lips partly swollen and red and his clothing mussed and wearing Craig's hat and… Actually, he looks good all the time. With that thought, he brings Stan back in close and lays a firm kiss on his lips. After a long moment of appreciation, he parts their lips again, but stays close. "We should get out of here," he says quietly, locking his eyes with Stan's simply because they're so close.**

After backing away when he heard Craig make his exclamation and the bell ring, he averted his eyes and wiped his mouth with his sleeve. Not like he couldn't get it dry cleaned, anyways. He caught Craig looking at him, and he narrowed his eyes a bit suspiciously as he stood up. What was the other thinking? He hated how he couldn't tell. Why was it that Craig had an excellent poker face and Stan basically wore his heart on his sleeve? The stoic bastard.

"Wh-" He was about to say when the other pulled him in for a kiss. He was going to go with it, when the other pushed him back again, but kept him close. "Yeah." He muttered, and then reached up to straighten his jacket, then went to unhinge the latch and slipped out. It was then when the door opened and he heard someone walk in, a random kid that he wasn't sure if he knew.

Walking away from the door casually, he walked out of the bathroom and headed to his locker. Even if they were dating, really, he didn't want people to know his business.

**Craig watches as Stan walks away, and notices as Stan walks out the door that he'd forgotten to take off Craig's hat. He smirks to himself and resists laughing since there seems to be a kid standing in the bathroom. People are totally going to look at Stan weird with his face all flushed and wearing Craig's hat, but Craig finds it more funny than daunting.**

**He checks himself in the mirror to make sure he doesn't look like he was doing anything other than peeing and then heads out to gather his stuff from his classroom. He's looking forward to hearing from Stan later about what happened when he realized he was still wearing Craig's hat.**


	20. 05 25 2012 a

05.25.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **you're an asshole

**Craig Tucker: **Why's that?

**Stan Marsh: **you let me walk out with that fucking hat

**Craig Tucker: **You're the one that left in such a hurry

**Stan Marsh: **did you want to walk out holding hands

**Craig Tucker: **No, but it was damn funny to see you walk out with it on

**Craig Tucker: **Did anyone notice?

**Stan Marsh: **yes

**Stan Marsh: **yes

**Stan Marsh: **they did

**Craig Tucker: **Really? Who?

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Stan Marsh: **some people from my baseball team

**Stan Marsh: **because you're a fucker

**Craig Tucker: **Hahaha, what did they say?

**Stan Marsh: **nothing

**Stan Marsh: **they said fucking nothing

**Stan Marsh: **and then I realized it was on and I left

**Stan Marsh: **to get fucking plastered because I had alcohol in my locker

**Craig Tucker: **...what

**Craig Tucker: **I thought you weren't drinking anymore

**Stan Marsh: **I tried it's toog odamn hard

**Stan Marsh: **maybe I should just

**Stan Marsh: **smoke pot

**Stan Marsh: **I don't fucking know

**Stan Marsh: **can you even cancel out an addiction with a new one

**Stan Marsh: **don't know aif that works

**Craig Tucker: **Fuck you, it's not that hard to not drink

**Stan Marsh: **fuck you

**Stan Marsh: **you don't know a drunk

**Stan Marsh: **fi really love you

**Craig Tucker: **What do I have to do to get you to fucking stop? I stopped smoking, you know

**Stan Marsh: **i love you

**Stan Marsh: **i don't know

**Stan Marsh: **destroy all my hiding spots

**Stan Marsh: **the other day I found one in the gutter

**Stan Marsh: **fuck if I know how it got there

**Craig Tucker: **Do I really need to raid your house?

**Stan Marsh: **yes

**Craig Tucker: **I'm coming to fucking get you and keeping you out of trouble. How many people have to pissed off already?

**Stan Marsh: **umn

**Stan Marsh: **I might have messaged wendy

**Stan Marsh: **i wanna know how pissed she is at me

**Stan Marsh: **shes not answering

**Craig Tucker: **Talking to her drunk probably isn't the best idea. That's something to do sober, you idiot

**Stan Marsh: **but im afraid of her sober

**Craig Tucker: **You won't always be

**Craig Tucker: **But I'm coming to get you

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **don't

**Stan Marsh: **i hate you seeing me like this

**Craig Tucker: **Then do be like this, dumbass

**Stan Marsh: **Oh her window is blinking

**Stan Marsh: **omfggg what do I say

**Craig Tucker: **You tell her you're drunk and that you're going to talk to her later becasue you're busy

**Stan Marsh: **craigggggggggggggg

**Stan Marsh: **but she

**Stan Marsh: **i don't know

**Stan Marsh: **are you angry with me

**Craig Tucker: **Yes, you fucking told me you wouldn't drink and you did

**Stan Marsh: **i don't wan t you angry

**Craig Tucker: **Then don't lie to me.

**Stan Marsh: **i don't

**Stan Marsh: **you're like the only person i havent fucking lied to

**Stan Marsh: **in weeks

**Stan Marsh: **i lie even to kyle

**Stan Marsh: **i love you

**Craig Tucker: **If you love me then fucking stop destroying your body

**Stan Marsh: **i wanna sit on your lap

**Craig Tucker: **I'm coming to get you anyway, you can sit wherever you want when we're at my house

**Stan Marsh: **ok

**Stan Marsh: **umn craig

**Stan Marsh: **i might have imed damien too

**Craig Tucker: **Why the fuck do you talk to him

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **when I'm drunk I talk to everyone on my list

**Craig Tucker: **You realize he's fucking mental, right? He'll snap your neck

**Stan Marsh: **probably

**Stan Marsh: **i feel sick

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, well I'm almost there

**Stan Marsh: **i want you

**Stan Marsh: **i should probably not heold melow right now right

**Craig Tucker: **Put her in her fucking cage and lock it back up

**Stan Marsh: **ok

**Stan Marsh: **craiggggggg

**Stan Marsh: **i got threats

**Stan Marsh: **i mean threatened

**Craig Tucker: **By who?

**Stan Marsh: **jfc i reallyshouldnt drink that fast

**Craig Tucker: **I'm outside

**Stan Marsh: **uh door unlocked

**Stan Marsh: **come up

**Stan Marsh: **im gonna go lay on my bed cause the room is spinning

**Craig Tucker: **Alright

* * *

**Craig just opens the door and heads inside, hoping that no one notices he's there. He makes his way up to Stan's room and opens the door. He's momentarily shocked, seeing that everything is spotless. No piles of clothes or old wrappers or school papers or anything. Something tells Craig that Stan's room doesn't look this way that often, considering the other times he'd been in there it was a total disaster zone.**

**He sees Stan on the bed and goes over to him. He sits on the edge of the mattress and puts a hand on Stan's shoulder. "We're going now," he says, trying to be quiet instead of angry because Stan probably has a pretty bad headache. "What the Hell happened in here, anyway?" he asks, curious as to why Stan's room is clean.**

"I cleaned it to get rid of alcoholllll. 'Coz of you..." Stan drew out the word alcohol, and in the process of speaking he swatted at Craig's hand. At first, it might have seemed like he was going to bat the other away, but instead he finally grabbed Craig's arm and pulled down roughly on it. "I want you to hug me now. Right now. I need a fucking hug. Hug me, bitch." He looked at Craig with his eyes half closed, frowning profoundly.

"Why are you not hugging me."

**Craig leans down to hug Stan, despite his threat to not touch Stan while drunk. A hug can't hurt, right? "You cleaned it… because of me? Then why are you drunk if you got rid of all the alcohol?" he asks, confused as to how Stan managed to get drunk without alcohol.**

**He also is a little overwhelmed by the 'because of Craig' part. Maybe Token was right and Stan actually tried to stop drinking because he loves Craig and not because of the threats to punch his lights out. It hits him how much Stan might **_**actually**_** love him, and he's not really sure what to do about it.**

He let out a happy hum as Craig gave him the hug, nuzzling Craig's arm affectionately as it neared his neck. Smiling lopsidedly with his eyes closed, "Because I've got alcohol hidden everywhere, even at school, idiot...I've got a **huuuuuuge** problem."

With another happy murmur, he breathed in heavily after pressing his nose up against Craig's hoodie. "I love the way you smell, too..you're like my favorite person on the planet right now, like, if the world exploded **right now** I'd be happy to die here with you. But I don't want you to die ever.."

"**Even at school?" he asks, having not known how far Stan's problem had actually spread. He tries to ignore Stan's cuddling and comments and forces himself to sit up. "Okay, we're leaving. We'll come back here tomorrow and I'm throwing out all your alcohol," he says. He stands up and offers Stan a hand to help him stand as well. He'll help Stan all the way to his damn house, if he needs to. He'd walked, assuming Stan could use the fresh air anyway and not wanting Stan to puke in his car.**

"No...no Craig.." Stan pushed himself off the bed, opening his eyes as he stared at Craig's hand for a moment. Narrowing his eyes slightly, he said plainly, "Damien threatened to kill me and last time he totally was gonna kill Kyle if I stayed with him..I dun'wan'you to die. I'll _**deal**_ with it, okay..I'mma idiot.." He moved to his side again, curling up in a ball as he muttered darkly under his breath, "No one touches my Craig..my Craig. Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh, why is there ringing." He reached up and tugged on his ear, and then let his hand fall lazily on the bed.

"**Um…" Craig starts, again not really knowing how to respond. Why the fuck would Damien kill anyone; what did Stan **_**do**_**? "I won't die, I promise, just let me help you, okay?" he says, looking down on Stan. He's pretty damn worried at this point; he doesn't think he's ever seen Stan this fucked up. What made him upset enough to let it get this far? He reaches down and tries to help Stan get off the bed.**

"Nooooo...Craig, don't," Stan whined as he tried to push Craig off, and then frowned as he said, "Why don't you just fucking hug me...stop trying to move me...don't move me, I want you here.." He tugged on Craig's arm again, and then looked at him unsettling with his eyes half-closed.

"Please just lay down..hug me."

**Craig reluctantly lets himself be pulled back down and lays himself behind Stan, hugging his arms around him. Maybe Stan really wouldn't be able to walk. He's silent for a few moments, just holding Stan's drunken self against him. Eventually it's bothering him too much and he asks, "Why did you drink today, Stan?" He really wants to know what happened; he'd thought they had a good day.**

Snuggling against Craig, he let his arms go limp on the bed and at his side as he enjoyed the closeness. Still a bit confused why Craig was suddenly here, he said, "Huh?" when the other asked him why he drank. "I dunno...guess I found a bottle..nerves..it goes away after. Like being in white space for awhile..nothing's wrong until morning...it makes me relieved from stress." It was the truth; he had stared at the bottle for all of ten seconds before he drank today, because he thought that he still hadn't let Kenny know if he could stay in the basement of his house. He just couldn't bring himself to ask his dad when his dad probably found out he was dating Craig through tumblr. He still hadn't told his family yet.

"...you like nothing, right. This is my nothing."

**None of that really answers Craig's question. He'd wanted to know what set Stan off today, but he decides he can ask again later, when Stan is better able to understand. Instead he just rolls with Stan's thoughts, figuring he'll get more answers that way. "What do you mean this is your nothing?" he asks, not really getting that part anyway.**

"I don't know...my escapism from all the shit." Stan muttered, his mind wandering to what he had been worrying about. "Like...things with Kenny. He totally told me if he was a girl he'd have your babies and I went and fucked you. I'm an awful friend...he gets so much shit in his life...I just added to it.." He groaned slightly as he closed his eyes and gripped Craig's arm in his hand.

"I probably deserve to die..I'm a horrible person. Even when I'm trying to build stuff I destroy it.."

**So **_**that's**_** what this is about. "Look, Stan, Kenny will be okay. He's going through a hard time right now, but eventually…" he pauses, considering what he's about to say and wondering if he actually means it. "Eventually he'll realize that I want you and not him, and that if this is what makes me happy, he should be happy too."**

**He brings one of his hands up and starts to thread it through Stan's hair. He's kind of depressing himself to have to say it, because he really does care about Kenny, but… he just doesn't want Kenny romantically anymore. He's really starting to like Stan a **_**lot**_**.**

"But...how can you even know that." Stan said with noticeable sadness in his voice, "Everything changes...I was with Wendy for like, **six years**, and just dropped her...and I still love her but not like...I don't know."

He hadn't caught that Craig wanted to be with him and not Kenny, he was far too sleepy now to actually pick up with it.

"...dude. **Dude.** Hug me tighter so I feel better."

**Craig complies, holding Stan tighter to his chest. "Didn't you hear me? Stan, I know because... Because I want to be with you. I decided that I don't want Kenny anymore; this isn't just a trial thing." He's not sure why he's saying so much. Maybe it's because he knows Stan is way too far gone to know what he's saying. Maybe it's because Stan loves him. Maybe he just owes Stan the truth. "I don't want Kenny, Stan, I want this. That's how I know it'll be okay. Kenny will eventually realize that."**

"Want to be with me? You are with me right now...I still don't get you, even when I'm drunk off my ass..but I want this too. You're comfy." Stan muttered sleepily, though he wasn't going to object to being bear hugged. Was this just a trial thing? He couldn't remember, and he really didn't want to remember right now. He just liked being hugged, and he smiled as he felt the other's warmth.

"Hey Craig..." He began, his mind wandering. "Does Damien eat people or something...'coz he totally said he was going to eat my liver, and then told me to watch out for him in my bedroom at night. I think he was bullshitting me but I don't even know. Fuck, that terrifies me.."

**With a sigh – because Stan **_**still**_** doesn't understand what he's saying – Craig just closes his eyes and tries to think of what to do about the Damien situation. "You really need to not fuck around with that guy, he's dangerous," he says. He doesn't know a lot about Damien, but he sure as Hell knows not to mess with the guy. Maybe he can explain the situation and Damien will forgive Stan… "Look, I'll talk to him, okay?" he says, hoping that will be enough to sooth drunk Stan's worries. "Just try to get some sleep."**

"He's a fucker...he probably won't do a damn thing." Stan said quietly, and then sighed as he started drifting off. Reaching out to feel the edge of Craig's sleeve, he ran his fingers over the cuff for a moment or two, and then fell asleep in the other's arms quite easily.


	21. 05 26 2012

05.26.2012

* * *

**Craig Tucker: **So you're sure that was _all_ the alcohol, right?

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah..

**Craig Tucker: **Awesome

**Stan Marsh: **Hey Craig..

**Craig Tucker: **What?

**Stan Marsh: **My phone is almost dead

**Craig Tucker: **Oh, well I can just go then

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Craig Tucker: **But your phone is dying

**Stan Marsh: **No one has been following you right

**Craig Tucker: **No, why?

**Stan Marsh: **Um no reason

**Craig Tucker: **That's a really fucking odd question to ask for no reason

**Craig Tucker: **What's going on

**Stan Marsh: **Uh..Damien was in my house last night

**Craig Tucker: **He what

**Stan Marsh: **I didn't want to tell you because he's gone now and don't bother him about it

**Craig Tucker: **What the fuck did you do?

**Craig Tucker: **Why was he there?

**Stan Marsh: **He just showed up in the kitchen and we talked and he left

**Craig Tucker: **You talked

**Craig Tucker: **That's it

**Craig Tucker: **Damien fucking Thorne was in your kitchen in the middle of the night

**Craig Tucker: **And you just talked

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah..

**Craig Tucker: **Right, I believe that. Why didn't you wake me up

**Stan Marsh: **Because I didn't want you to get hurt

**Craig Tucker: **I would have gotten hurt just talking, huh

**Stan Marsh: **Q

**Stan Marsh: **Um, damn phone is lagging..

**Stan Marsh: **Uh...

**Stan Marsh: **Ok, I don't want to lie to you..

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, don't.

**Stan Marsh: **There was kind of a fight

**Craig Tucker: **...

**Craig Tucker: **Kind of?

**Stan Marsh: **I'm at a restaurant with my mom, I have to go for a bit

**Craig Tucker: **Of course

**Craig Tucker: **See you later

**Stan Marsh: **Just don't worry I took care of it

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, go eat

**Stan Marsh: **Ok..I'll message you after

**Craig Tucker: **Alright

**Stan Marsh: **He threatened you so I threw flour at him and he pinned me

**Stan Marsh: **I wasn't thinking clearly, I was just pissed he threatened you like multiple times

**Stan Marsh: **I'm sorry but he backed off ok

**Craig Tucker: **Who would he even threaten me

**Craig Tucker: **Okay whatever, he's done now, right?

**Craig Tucker: **You're not hurt?

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah..no, sore but whatever..

**Craig Tucker: **Sore? What exactly did he do?

**Stan Marsh: **He was going to break something but I made him laugh so he backed off

**Craig Tucker: **Really

**Craig Tucker: **That's... weird

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah..

**Craig Tucker: **Why the Hell did you throw flour at him, are you trying to make him kill you?

**Stan Marsh: **No, I was pissed. I don't know why I did it..he just said he'd do something to you and I wanted to kick his ass, I know it's illogical

**Craig Tucker: **You don't need to worry about me, okay, just stop getting yourself into bad situations

**Stan Marsh: **I'm sorry

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I was worried he killed you, he climbed in through my window

**Craig Tucker: **He did?

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah...said you looked cute while you slept

**Stan Marsh: **I was scared

**Craig Tucker: **What a creep

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah..

**Craig Tucker: **Wait, why weren't you in bed?

**Stan Marsh: **I went to throw up

**Craig Tucker: **Oh

**Craig Tucker: **Understandable, you were really fucked up

**Craig Tucker: **You couldn't even understand me when I was talking

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah... I'm sorry

**Stan Marsh: **I don't remember much

**Craig Tucker: **Um, Kenny texted me while I was there. He said something about how I'm the reason he can't stay in your house, but I thought you were asking your dad

**Stan Marsh: **I might have mentioned that it could be awkward but I still offered to ask my dad..

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know he told me he was staying with Kyle now

**Craig Tucker: **Oh, as long as he has somewhere to go I guess..

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah..

**Stan Marsh: **So you're positive you're not being followed?

**Stan Marsh: **You know I would have thrown the sugar if it meant protecting you, right

**Craig Tucker: **No, I'm not being followed

**Craig Tucker: **And don't be stupid, no. If he's angry just let him fucking cool off, he'll get over it

**Craig Tucker: **As far as I know, you have to push that guy to actually make him hurt you, otherwise it's too much effort

**Stan Marsh: **I guess..well the alcohol is gone so it shouldn't be a problem

**Craig Tucker: **If having something like Damien breaking into your house at night doesn't keep you from drinking, I don't know what will

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah, I won't drink.

**Craig Tucker: **Great, maybe you'll understand me the next time I try to say something important

**Stan Marsh: **...what?

**Craig Tucker: **You were so fucking gone, and just rambling, and I couldn't even tell you it was okay because you couldn't understand me

**Stan Marsh: **Sorry...

**Craig Tucker: **It's whatever, it's over

**Stan Marsh: **...you're positive you're okay right

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I probably would have died if he hurt you..

**Craig Tucker: **I didn't even know he was there, he didn't touch me

**Stan Marsh: **I'm sorry I almost got you hurt..

**Craig Tucker: **Bro it's okay, I'm fine

**Craig Tucker: **You need to learn to let things go when nothing bad happens

**Craig Tucker: **We're both fine, he backed off, it's all good

**Stan Marsh: **But he could have

**Craig Tucker: **But he didn't

**Stan Marsh: **He was in the same room as you and you didn't know it

**Stan Marsh: **I'm still freaking out..

**Craig Tucker: **If he would have touched me, I would have known. He can't hurt me if he doesn't touch me, right?

**Stan Marsh: **What if he smothered you with a pillow or something

**Craig Tucker: **Stan, I'm okay

**Craig Tucker: **Relax

**Stan Marsh: **Ok..

**Craig Tucker: **Are you okay, though? You said he pinned you, and I don't imagine he's _weak_...

**Stan Marsh: **There's bruising but I'll be fine

**Craig Tucker: **Why are you worried about me when he didn't touch me and you're brusing

**Craig Tucker: **You're an idiot

**Stan Marsh: **I didn't want you to die

**Stan Marsh: **My phone is at 3%

**Craig Tucker: **Do you want to save the battery

**Stan Marsh: **Love you

**Craig Tucker: **Um, thanks.. bye, Stan

**Stan Marsh: **I plugged it in. Um.. Did you want to go somewhere tonight

**Craig Tucker: **Like where?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know..I don't want to be away from you

**Craig Tucker: **Well, we could go do that thing

**Craig Tucker: **The meteor thing

**Stan Marsh: **Okay..

**Craig Tucker: **Did you even still want to do that?

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **Can I bring a gun?

**Craig Tucker: **No you can't bring a fucking gun, why would you do that

**Stan Marsh: **We'll be outside

**Stan Marsh: **At night

**Craig Tucker: **Quit worrying about Damien, okay? If he backed off, you should be safe, just don't piss him off again

**Craig Tucker: **We'll be fine

**Stan Marsh: **Well he was touching on me, it was fucking creepy

**Craig Tucker: **...touching on you

**Stan Marsh: **Like my face for no fucking reason and it was really fucking creepy okay, can I just bring a gun I swear I sort of know how to use them from my uncle jimbo

**Craig Tucker: **Why was he touching you

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **...

**Stan Marsh: **What.

**Craig Tucker: **He was touching you how

**Stan Marsh: **Stroking my face

**Stan Marsh: **It was creepy

**Craig Tucker: **What a dick.

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah. Omg seriously I don't know fucking why I didn't ask him I told him to fuck off and get out of my house

**Stan Marsh: **It was possibly more creepy than reading what he sent me last night when I was drunk, jfc

**Craig Tucker: **Okay so hey, I might be busy tonight if you want to do the meteor thing tomorrow

**Stan Marsh: **...why are you busy tonight

**Craig Tucker: **Because I'm busy

**Stan Marsh: **Dude no

**Stan Marsh: **I want to see you tonight

**Craig Tucker: **It can't wait until tomorrow?

**Stan Marsh: **What are you doing tonight then

**Craig Tucker: **I have somewhere to be

**Stan Marsh: **With who

**Craig Tucker: **Does it matter

**Stan Marsh: **Yes

**Craig Tucker: **Someone

**Stan Marsh: **..who is it and don't lie to me

**Craig Tucker: **Who do you think it is

**Stan Marsh: **Dude just tell me

**Craig Tucker: **I have a few things to say to someone, that's it

**Stan Marsh: **..you're not going to talk to Damien are you

**Craig Tucker: **No one fucking touches you okay

**Stan Marsh: **Just don't okay I don't want you dead

**Stan Marsh: **He was probably just trying to freak me out ok

**Craig Tucker: **I don't care what he was trying to do

**Stan Marsh: **Don't talk to him please don't

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Stan Marsh: **Because he threatened to hurt you and I don't want you hurt so please don't go near him

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not going to piss him off, just ask him a few questions, it's okay

**Stan Marsh: **No just stay away from him

**Craig Tucker: **He fucking touched you, no

**Stan Marsh: **If you're just going to ask questions I'm going with you

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Stan Marsh: **Yes

**Craig Tucker: **No, you're not.

**Stan Marsh: **Yes, I am.

**Craig Tucker: **Fuck you Stan, you're staying home. I don't want him near you

**Stan Marsh: **Craig he threatened to marinate my liver, I'm not letting you go near him and definitely not alone

**Craig Tucker: **Fine I'll take Clyde

**Stan Marsh: **Dude Clyde is not going to do anything

**Craig Tucker: **Clyde will be okay

**Stan Marsh: **No just no don't talk to him Craig its over just don't go near him

**Craig Tucker: **Okay.

**Stan Marsh: **You're not going to talk to him?

**Craig Tucker: **I am.

**Stan Marsh: **No goddamnit don't

**Craig Tucker: **Why the fuck shouldn't I, he touched you and tried to hurt you, you could be fucking dead, I'm going

**Stan Marsh: **I pissed him off ok he was just freaking me out and he backed off ok

**Stan Marsh: **So what if he touched my face or say on me for five minutes it's over so just don't

**Craig Tucker: **Goddamnit, I'm going

**Stan Marsh: **No!

**Craig Tucker: **Try and fucking stop me

**Stan Marsh: **Ok I'll be over in two minutes

**Craig Tucker: **I'll already be gone, don't bother

**Stan Marsh: **No don't

**Stan Marsh: **Why can't you just message him

**Stan Marsh: **Why do you have to be there in person

**Craig Tucker: **Why the fuck would I message him, I want to see his fucking face when I talk to him

**Stan Marsh: **Because he's really strong and he could easily break your neck..goddamnit Craig

**Craig Tucker: **I'll be fine

**Stan Marsh: **If you go near him I'm going to hate you

**Stan Marsh: **Because you're needlessly freaking me out, he's not going to bother me again ok just don't do anything

**Craig Tucker: **This isn't needless, no one fucking touches you

**Craig Tucker: **You're mine, remember

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah and you're mine so if you die I lose you and I'll be fucking pissed do just drop the fucking subject and go stargazing with me

**Craig Tucker: **...

**Stan Marsh: **What.

**Craig Tucker: **I can do both

**Craig Tucker: **It'll only take me a few minutes

**Stan Marsh: **No because if you don't show up I'm going to die of a heart attack goddamnit just don't go near him

**Craig Tucker: **...are you still coming over because I could really use a kiss right about now

**Stan Marsh: **Yes if you want me to fucking come over instead of going off and getting yourself killed

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **Ok I'll be over

* * *

It took Stan all of three minutes to jog over to Craig's house- he had grabbed a hoodie, thrown it on, and hadn't tamed his wild hair either. He looked a bit like a nervous wreck as he opened the front door and walked upstairs to the attic. When he was inside, he walked over to Craig and threw his arms around him.

**Craig isn't expecting Stan to arrive so quickly, but he doesn't object when Stan all but throws himself at him. Craig is worried and extremely pissed off that Damien had been **_**touching**_** Stan. And sitting on him? What the fuck is that about? Craig pulls back from Stan after a moment and gives him a hard look. "Where are you bruising? What exactly happened," he asks, wanting the whole story and not just pieces of it like he's been getting. He really does want that kiss, but not until he knows what happened.**

"What do you mean, I told you everything," Stan said with a confused expression on his face. He glanced down at his arms, and then removed his hoodie- he had a shirt on underneath so Craig could see his forearms, where there were bruises. Still confused, he said, "He just showed up, I don't know..I was sitting at the kitchen table with water and he walked over and sat down and said he was going to teach me a lesson or something. Then I went to leave and he cornered me."

"**Fucking Christ, and then what?" Craig asks, taking Stan's arms in each hand. What is he supposedly teaching Stan a lesson about? Is drunk IMing really that big a deal? What did Stan **_**do**_**? He brings Stan's arms up and noses at the bruising skin with a sigh, waiting for Stan to continue. What the fuck kind of trouble did Stan get himself into?**

"Then he touched my face and threatened you and I said, 'I'll kill you if you touch Craig' and he asked me how I'd do it, so I told him rock salt and then to fuck off, and I pushed his hand away after he started rubbing his thumb on my face, fuck it was terrifying," He watched Craig intently as the other nosed his arm - he vaguely wondered if Craig would kiss his bruises. It already didn't hurt as much because he knew Craig was okay. "Then he backed off but said if I drink again he'd hurt you. And I know it was stupid to throw flour but whatever, I couldn't change it after I did it..so he sat on me and said he was going to let me choose what bone he'd break, and I said a dog bone under the sink and he laughed and sat on me for awhile talking about how disturbed I was. Then he helped me up, and I left to make sure you were ok."

**Stan's story all just kind of runs together and Craig's not sure if there's pieces missing, but he thinks he gets the gist of what happened. Basically Damien was just being a dick, and Stan got worried and reacted badly, so Damien attacked him. And then somehow Damien's mood changed and he decided to let Stan go? He doesn't understand how his boyfriend isn't in a million pieces, but he's damn glad. He stops nuzzling Stan's arms and lets them fall, bringing his own arms back around Stan and holding him tight. He presses his lips to Stan's and holds him there for a long moment, glad that Stan is okay.**

**He can't help but think it was kind of stupid to leave Damien alone in the house, though, and he wonders if Damien did anything.**

Stan moved his arms upwards and put them on the back of Craig's neck, affectionately returning the others kiss. Pulling away after a moment, he looked at Craig and said, "So you're not going to talk to him, right." He was hoping just being here swayed Craig into ignoring Damien, because he really didn't want to deal with Craig getting hurt- it was better if he just stayed safe.

**Craig doesn't answer for a second, still seriously considering going over there, but he ultimately decides against it, seeing the look on Stan's face. "No, I won't," he says, dropping his forehead against Stan's with a bit of a defeated sigh. "But don't ever fucking talk to him again, I swear to God," he says, not sure what he'd do if Damien attacked Stan again. He might try kicking his ass, even though he knows he'd be the one in the hospital afterwards. No one fucking touches what's Craig's.**

**He has an idea after a second and says, "Before, you said you wanted rules. Well rule number one, don't fucking talk to Damien."**

"I won't. I'll delete him off my aim list." Stan said sincerely, though he made a mental note to create a reminder for this on his phone. He played gently with the back of Craig's hair, and couldn't help but smile because he had convinced Craig not to go potentially die. He kept his forehead against Craig's as they stood there. "So there's rules now..?"

"**Just that one," he says, idly smoothing small circles in Stan's back with his hands. "Oh, and fucking tell me next time someone tries touching you because I'll kick their ass so fucking hard." He means it, too.**

**He pauses for a few seconds, considering telling Stan what else happened last night. He knows Stan probably can't remember. He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to figure out how to say it. "Um, so last night I was talking to you and I said some stuff," he starts lamely, not really knowing how else to start anyway. "And basically I was trying to say that this isn't any kind of trial anymore. You're really important, and, um… Before I was trying to convince myself that this was going to blow up and I'd just go back to Kenny, but… I don't want Kenny anymore. I want this."**

Stan's hand absentmindedly traced the tiny hairs on the back of Craig's neck as the other spoke, but he froze when Craig started explaining what he said last night. For some reason, he had forgotten they were doing this as a trial run. Maybe it was because he was used to Craig being there; maybe because their relationship was so intense that it made him think they were already more. He wasn't exactly frowning or smiling- it was somewhere in between as he tried to think of what to say. Finally he replied, "...yeah, me too."

**He's not sure what he was expecting Stan to say, but 'me too' definitely wasn't it. His hands stop as he looks to Stan's face for a reaction. That was supposed to be a good thing that he'd said, but maybe it wasn't..? "Um," he says, not sure what to do. Doesn't Stan 'love' him? Shouldn't it be good that Craig is acknowledging that he's moving in the same direction? It's a lot for Craig to like Stan this much, considering they'd started out as enemies, and especially since Craig was with Tweek for so long, and then Kenny. Granted, Stan was with Wendy for near six years, but still… It's harder for Craig to fall for someone; to give that much of himself to another person.**

"No, really...I just wasn't expecting that.." Stan said quietly, watching the other study his face. "I really want...you know. This." He leaned forwards, wrapping his arms around the other's neck and linking his arms behind him so he could pull Craig into a tight hug, while he put his head against Craig's shoulder. "Can you just hug me for awhile..I didn't really sleep well." He wanted to say 'cuddle me as I nap' but he didn't want to make this moment even more awkward.

**Craig successfully feels like an idiot as Stan speaks awkwardly. Maybe he should just keep thoughts like that to himself from now on… "Yeah, do you want to lay down?" he asks, resorting back to his monotone. He doesn't really mean to come off as cold, so he returns Stan's tight hug. He doesn't really want to think anymore, having gone from worried, to pissed, to relieved, to awkward, to kind of upset. Mood swings happen too often around Stan, and he just wants to sleep this one off.**

Rubbing Craig's back slightly, he pulled away and walked over towards Craig's bed and laid down. He said quietly, "I'm sorry...I'm just really...exhausted. I haven't eaten anything since like...well, last night before I got drunk. I'm not hungry...Uh...Craig...I want this, I do..but you're such a stoic bastard I can't tell when you're being serious or just trying to make me feel better. Uh, but don't take that wrong...I fucking love how I can't tell what you're feeling. ...It's hot."

**Craig stares for a second before sitting on the edge of the mattress near Stan. "The only thing I really got out of that is that you're stomach is empty… but you think I would just say something without meaning it?" he asks, honestly a little offended but not letting it show. Craig always means something when he says it. Well, unless it's clear sarcasm. Why would Craig go through the effort of coming up with something fake to say when he could just as easily say 'I love you too' and have it be a lie. That doesn't even make sense.**

"No...I mean, I can't tell...ugh. Just cuddle me, you bastard."

He said finally, and sulked slightly from having to actually demand being snuggled.

"I meant I want to be with you too. Just...I don't know. You caught me off guard.." Truthfully, he was inwardly ecstatic about Craig's response. But after being so concerned for him, he felt even guiltier for pulling him into his issues, and possibly getting him killed. Why did he mean so much to Stan now? He couldn't remember how he hated Craig before.

"You always mean what you say."

**Craig sighs and slides down around Stan's back to pull their bodies close. Deciding to change the subject because it's starting to make him feel a little stupid, he asks, "So you're sure you're not hurt that much, right?" He still isn't sure how he feels about the fact that Damien was in Stan's house last night and that he wasn't even awake to help Stan out. And from what it sounds like, Damien pinned him to the floor. No, only Craig can do that.**

"I'm fine, Craig," Stan mumbled, backing up so they fit a little bit like curved puzzle pieces. "It's over." He reached over to grab Craig's arm, and then draped it over his middle. Why didn't Craig ever put it there? He would've thought he got the hint by now.

"Sleep..before my mom calls and asks why I'm not doing my chores." He shut his eyes and then smiled. Craig had finally admitted it. Hah.

"**Okay," Craig agrees, winding his arm tight around Stan's middle. He really doesn't want to talk about any of this anymore, it's just dumb anyway. Why did he even say anything; he's sure it went unsaid anyway. Of course Craig cares when he's thinking about going to confront the son of fucking Satan to keep Stan safe. He wonders how long they're going to sleep, though, considering it's still the middle of the day.**

Stan was awake for all of two minutes before he drifted off into dreamland. Really, he had spent all night listening to the little sounds around the house, and the pattern of Craig's slow breathing behind him. He was unnerved to the point he thought that Damien wouldn't have left the house, and instead would have waited around until Stan fell asleep to do something to Craig - it was irrational but he didn't have the nerve to walk back downstairs and double check the other left. Not that he couldn't have come back. But somehow now that Craig said he wasn't going to do anything, he felt a bit better, and he was able to fall asleep.

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **craig

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **we're still hanging out tonight right?

**Craig Tucker: **Of course

**Stan Marsh: **ugh, I've had a horrible night

**Craig Tucker: **Why's that?

**Craig Tucker: **I thought you were okay when you left earlier

**Stan Marsh: **I think I'm going to throw my computer out the window.

**Stan Marsh: **and hit my phone with a mallet

**Stan Marsh: **in fact, I think I'm going to become amish.

**Stan Marsh: **are you okay with that?

**Craig Tucker: **Um, no don't become amish. I'm pretty sure most of the things we do in our spare time are frowned upon by them, just saying

**Stan Marsh: **yeah, well, the technology part is what I want to get rid of

**Stan Marsh: **Maybe I should just delete AIM and tumblr

**Craig Tucker: **If you want, I mean I can't stop you, but how will you harass me with gay pictures and incessant messaging?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **I'll have to get a landline or something and use that with a rotary phone

**Craig Tucker: **You have a rotary phone?

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **But I'm sure the pawn shop has one

**Stan Marsh: **I'm really fucking upset

**Craig Tucker: **I was just about to ask, what has you so worked up about technology?

**Stan Marsh: **I spent the first half of my evening listening to Kenny

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, he was probably upset, wasn't he...

**Stan Marsh: **and the second half I tried ignoring Damien but ended up talking to the fucker anyways because he uses threats and mind games and I'm just going to go jump out my window now, okay

**Stan Marsh: **Just

**Stan Marsh: **don't contact him

**Stan Marsh: **Please, I can't handle it

**Craig Tucker: **Damien? Just ignore him

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **I am

**Stan Marsh: **I'm trying

**Craig Tucker: **What is he saying?

**Stan Marsh: **But I'm pretty sure he said he's going to pick a date and kill me on it

**Craig Tucker: **What did you do?

**Stan Marsh: **Oh my god, I didn't do anything!

**Stan Marsh: **Don't accuse me

**Stan Marsh: **I seriously did NOTHING

**Stan Marsh: **I said I'm not talking to you because I was too freaked out to block him and he just

**Stan Marsh: **I don't even know, he just somehow got pissed off by that

**Craig Tucker: **I was just wondering, damn. He doesn't seem like the type to randomly target and he seems to be set on you for something

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **He messaged me first

**Stan Marsh: **just so you know

**Stan Marsh: **I didn't do a goddamn thing

**Craig Tucker: **Would it make you feel better to just stay here for a few nights?

**Stan Marsh: **and what about my family

**Stan Marsh: **I do have one of those

**Craig Tucker: **Did he say anything about them?

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Stan Marsh: **Then again I'm sure he knows me and you are together so he's just going to end up in your house

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not going to

**Craig Tucker: **He won't come in my house, come on, Ruby lives here

**Craig Tucker: **She'd probably kick his ass, just saying

**Stan Marsh: **whatever craig

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, I'm trying to tell you that it'll be okay.

**Craig Tucker: **And I kind of want you here

**Stan Marsh: **I know

**Stan Marsh: **...oh

**Stan Marsh: **Well...

**Stan Marsh: **I just wanted to fix this, goddamnit

**Stan Marsh: **I can't fix a goddamn thing

**Craig Tucker: **Just don't respond to him, he'll get over it

**Craig Tucker: **And if he asks for soemthing, just give it to him and leave it at that

**Craig Tucker: **No contact, little resistance

**Stan Marsh: **I did that

**Craig Tucker: **At least that's what I would do

**Craig Tucker: **Then it'll be fine

**Stan Marsh: **I got a fucking death threat

**Stan Marsh: **how is that fine

**Craig Tucker: **Because he'll get over it. He didn't kill you the first time, so he must at least like you

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Craig Tucker: **Hey, look at it this way. He has to get through me to get to you, and he has to get through you to get to me. We're both safe.

**Stan Marsh: **I'm just going to go outside and smoke a pack of cigarettes

**Craig Tucker: **No, you should come smoke them with me and then we can go to wherever and do the meteor thing

**Craig Tucker: **Okay?

**Stan Marsh: **If I'm getting myself killed I'm not dragging you down with me

**Craig Tucker: **Yes you fucking are

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Craig Tucker: **You're not going to die

**Stan Marsh: **Everyone keeps telling me that

**Stan Marsh: **But you know, because I'm such an idiot when I'm drunk, I pissed off the antichrist

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not going to let you die, okay

**Craig Tucker: **That's it

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Craig Tucker: **So come smoke a cigarette with me, and we're going to go on this date and fucking relax

**Stan Marsh: **I think I'm just going to stay home tonight ..

**Craig Tucker: **Stan

**Stan Marsh: **what

**Craig Tucker: **I want to go

**Craig Tucker: **I promise you'll be okay

**Stan Marsh: **I had stuff planned out..

**Craig Tucker: **We can still do that stuff

**Craig Tucker: **I'm going to kill that asshole if he scared you out of going out with me tonight.

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Stan Marsh: **just

**Stan Marsh: **don't even go there okay

**Craig Tucker: **Then go with me like you wanted

**Stan Marsh: **I still want to go but I'm too freaked out, okay

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to be in large open spaces right now

**Craig Tucker: **Fine

**Stan Marsh: **...fine what

**Craig Tucker: **Fine, we won't go, we'll just do it some other night.

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **thanks..

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Craig Tucker: **So what are you doing then

**Stan Marsh: **Surfing youtube videos

**Craig Tucker: **Sounds fun

**Stan Marsh: **do you like zelda?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, it's a good game

**Stan Marsh: **www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=H-iUZD8wfjs

**Craig Tucker: **Was he playing that or is it just him being... I don't even know what that was

**Stan Marsh: **they're playing with radio waves or something

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **it looks kind of fun

**Craig Tucker: **Look's unnecessarily difficult, if you ask me, but it might be fun to fuck around with

**Stan Marsh: **dude there's no notes

**Stan Marsh: **how is that difficult

**Stan Marsh: **you just move your hands

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, I've never used one

**Stan Marsh: **do you play any instruments?

**Craig Tucker: **No, not really

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **what does not really mean

**Craig Tucker: **It means not really. I don't own any but when we were kids I played like, the fucking recorder in school and I was in that panflute band with you guys and I dunno

**Craig Tucker: **It means not really

**Stan Marsh: **oh..okay

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Stan Marsh: **um, just was wondering

**Craig Tucker: **Is it bad that I can't play any?

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Craig Tucker: **What about you?

**Stan Marsh: **I play the guitar

**Craig Tucker: **I kind of saw that coming, somehow

**Stan Marsh: **...why

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, you just seem like you have an acoustic guitar sitting in your room somewhere

**Stan Marsh: **...I do

**Craig Tucker: **It's not bad, I was just saying that somehow I already knew that

**Craig Tucker: **I don't think you ever told me that, though

**Stan Marsh: **I don't really play it besides for myself

**Craig Tucker: **Why not?

**Stan Marsh: **...well, I played it for some stuff, but I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **I write songs and shove them in a folder and forget about it

**Craig Tucker: **Are they good?

**Stan Marsh: **...how am I supposed to know if they're good?

**Stan Marsh: **wouldn't that be bias

**Craig Tucker: **Well no

**Craig Tucker: **But maybe you should play them for someone then

**Craig Tucker: **See if they like it

**Stan Marsh: **Maybe

**Craig Tucker: **What kind of stuff do you write?

**Stan Marsh: **what do you mean?

**Craig Tucker: **Like a genre

**Stan Marsh: **...that's a bit personal

**Craig Tucker: **Oh

**Stan Marsh: **what?

**Craig Tucker: **Nothing

**Stan Marsh: **it's not really a genre anyways..

**Stan Marsh: **whatever I feel like

**Craig Tucker: **I see

**Stan Marsh: **okay, fine

**Stan Marsh: **a lot of romance crap

**Stan Marsh: **It's stupid

**Craig Tucker: **That's cool, I normally just talk to Stripe. Creative, I know

**Stan Marsh: **that's intense

**Stan Marsh: **...so you don't do anything creative

**Craig Tucker: **Um, not really

**Craig Tucker: **Not really anything significant, anyway

**Stan Marsh: **so you don't draw?

**Stan Marsh: **or write poetry

**Stan Marsh: **come on, you do something

**Stan Marsh: **No one does absolutely nothing creative

**Craig Tucker: **Well I mean sometimes I write stuff down

**Craig Tucker: **Or doodle in my school notes

**Craig Tucker: **Or storyboard

**Stan Marsh: **www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=7H1Zb7IjqGo - I know how to play that

**Craig Tucker: **on the acoustic guitar?

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Stan Marsh: **I have more than one guitar jfc

**Craig Tucker: **Well aren't you cool

**Stan Marsh: **yep

**Stan Marsh: **...wait, you have a storyboard

**Craig Tucker: **...yes?

**Stan Marsh: **so you draw

**Craig Tucker: **Not really, it's just like, ideas

**Craig Tucker: **Like I sketch it out, but I'd hardly call it drawing

**Stan Marsh: **can I see?

**Craig Tucker: **really

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah

**Craig Tucker: **It's not that interesting

**Craig Tucker: **And I don't think you'd like it, anyway

**Stan Marsh: **why

**Craig Tucker: **It's just a lot of stupid shit, seriously. It's story board that follows my interest in movies, so it's just a bunch of zombie and gore and weird shit

**Stan Marsh: **...oh

**Stan Marsh: **can I still see it?

**Craig Tucker: **...I guess.

**Craig Tucker: **There's not a lot to see, really

**Craig Tucker: **And it's really disorganized because when I finish something it all gets thrown in a box

**Stan Marsh: **why?

**Craig Tucker: **So good luck deciphering any of it

**Craig Tucker: **Because I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **Where else would I put them?

**Stan Marsh: **I guess..

**Stan Marsh: **I sort of do the same with my poetry

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not trying to be mean, really, but how can you deny being gay

**Stan Marsh: **Poetry isn't gay

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, well since you're invading my box of storyboards, I get to read your shit and hear you play guitar. Fair trade

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **maybe just the guitar

**Craig Tucker: **Why not the poetry

**Stan Marsh: **I don't think you want to read that

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Stan Marsh: **most of the old stuff is about wendy

**Craig Tucker: **So give me the new stuff

**Stan Marsh: **...no

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to

**Craig Tucker: **Why not

**Stan Marsh: **it's crap

**Craig Tucker: **So are my storyboards

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want you to read it, ok

**Craig Tucker: **Fine

**Stan Marsh: **maybe later

**Craig Tucker: **Why later

**Stan Marsh: **...because I'm saying you can read it, just not right now

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, fine, that's cool

**Stan Marsh: **do you think I'm actually going to die

**Craig Tucker: **No, you're not going to die, I told you that

**Craig Tucker: **I'll make sure of it

**Stan Marsh: **can I just move in with you

**Stan Marsh: **well...I can't

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Stan Marsh: **can I move in with you and pretend I still live at home

**Craig Tucker: **Um, well I was planning on getting my own place soon... if you remember that Kenny was supposed to move in there

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, you can stay with me, I guess

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **that sounds like a bigger step then I was thinking of discussing

**Craig Tucker: **Well you pretty much sleep here every night

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not saying move in, I'm just saying you can stay

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah, but I was going to move mellow in too

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not leaving her in the house if Damien can crawl in my window

**Craig Tucker: **That's okay, but she'll make Stripe get loud

**Stan Marsh: **...oh

**Stan Marsh: **hmm

**Stan Marsh: **um...craig?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **...when you were talking about stuff earlier

**Stan Marsh: **do you see us going long term?

**Craig Tucker: **Um, yeah, kinda...

**Stan Marsh: **...kinda?

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know what'll happen, but I don't exactly see this ending anytime soon

**Stan Marsh: **I know we're only like, what, a week in but

**Stan Marsh: **I feel like it's been longer

**Stan Marsh: **and I sort of see us long term too, but it's bothering me

**Craig Tucker: **Bothering you?

**Stan Marsh: **well yeah.

**Stan Marsh: **you should probably know I want kids.

**Craig Tucker: **Um... do guinea pigs count

**Stan Marsh: **well, I want actual kids too

**Craig Tucker: **That's like, 6-7 years in the future, dude, you don't even need to think about it right now

**Stan Marsh: **...so is that the time table we'd be using?

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not really using a time table...

**Stan Marsh: **...well, either way, I wanted to let you know

**Stan Marsh: **you just don't...seem like the kid type

**Craig Tucker: **Way to say "you're too much of a dick to have kids"

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not saying that

**Craig Tucker: **But I don't even know, that's too far in teh future for me

**Stan Marsh: **seriously?

**Craig Tucker: **I decide things as they come, worrying about them early just creates stress

**Stan Marsh: **but, you could potentially see kids, right.

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, maybe, I don't know what I'll want in 7 years

**Stan Marsh: **...okay

**Stan Marsh: **maybe is fine.

**Craig Tucker: **...can you really even see us staying together long enough to have this be an issue?

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah

**Stan Marsh: **...hey craig.

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=PbtzMVDbIJI

**Craig Tucker: **...I still don't know what to say to that and I'd really like you to tell me what the appropriate response is so I can stop feeling like a jackass every time you say it

**Stan Marsh: **...I didn't even say it

**Craig Tucker: **Well, you reminded me of the issue and I'm asking you what the answer should be

**Stan Marsh: **...why can't it be I love you too?

**Craig Tucker: **Because... I don't know yet...

**Craig Tucker: **Shit like that takes a lot of time

**Craig Tucker: **And now I feel like a jackass, okay maybe I should go to bed

**Stan Marsh: **...no

**Craig Tucker: **Why not

**Stan Marsh: **I'll miss you?

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, so I'll just sit here with my foot in my mouth for a while

**Stan Marsh: **i don't really care if you say anything back to that...

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **doesn't seem like a problem to me

**Craig Tucker: **Well it's a problem to me... something like that deserves a response, not just me sitting here

**Stan Marsh: **...but I like you sitting there

**Stan Marsh: **you're so sexy when you do absolutely nothing.

**Stan Marsh: **you don't even have to try.

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, thanks for changing the subject

**Stan Marsh: **no problem, your hotness is always a good conversation starter

**Craig Tucker: **I always try, I have to look good for my boyfriend, you know

**Stan Marsh: **hey...

**Stan Marsh: **have you washed that hat

**Craig Tucker: **No, why?

**Stan Marsh: **...really

**Craig Tucker: **It only gets washed like once every couple weeks, gimme a break

**Stan Marsh: **...it probably smells like hell

**Craig Tucker: **Why? It's only been about a week and a half since it's been washed

**Stan Marsh: **...that hat has been places

**Craig Tucker: **Where, in your mouth? It's not like you don't brush your teeth

**Stan Marsh: **...and somewhere else

**Craig Tucker: **Fine, I'll go throw it in the wash now

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **like how did you even forget that

**Craig Tucker: **I didn't

**Stan Marsh: **...so you've been wearing it

**Craig Tucker: **And?

**Stan Marsh: **...and you said I was kinky, you bastard

**Craig Tucker: **It just doesn't bother me, it's not like I haven't touched your dick

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Craig Tucker: **Am I supposed to be afraid of your cooties?

**Stan Marsh: **well, no. but that hat probably smells like dried spit and dried something else, I don't even know how you can stand wearing it

**Stan Marsh: **God, and I wore it...jfc

**Craig Tucker: **Relax already, it's in the fucking wash now

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Craig Tucker: **Remind me to wash everything that's ever touched you so you don't freak out

**Stan Marsh: **...well, just in that way

**Craig Tucker: **What do you care anyway; how long did you wear my fucking boxers before you returned them?

**Craig Tucker: **Nice tag, by the way

**Stan Marsh: **thanks

**Stan Marsh: **But those stayed under my pants

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, and? how does that make it better?

**Stan Marsh: **...they were hidden

**Craig Tucker: **So it's allowed to get raunchy if it's hidden, okay

**Stan Marsh: **well yeah

**Craig Tucker: **It's not like anyone could _see_ the fact that you used it to cover yourself

**Craig Tucker: **So why did it matter?

**Stan Marsh: **...what if people could smell it

**Craig Tucker: **Really

**Craig Tucker: **Seeing has nothing to do with smelling

**Craig Tucker: **And no you couldn't fucking smell it, I would have washed it if it reeked

**Stan Marsh: **...okay, let's stop talking about your hat

**Craig Tucker: **Why, you hard now?

**Stan Marsh: **yes, I got a hard on by mentioning your hat.

**Craig Tucker: **Considering what it was used for, I wouldn't be surprised

**Stan Marsh: **I've found instead of looking up porn, it's more useful to use a cut-out of your hat.

**Craig Tucker: **You know, we fight so much that I can't even tell when it's sarcastic and when it's not anymore

**Stan Marsh: **yeah..

**Craig Tucker: **But it's a great hat, isn't it?

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah.

**Craig Tucker: **You looked cute in it

**Stan Marsh: **okay, hold up

**Stan Marsh: **I can't say I love you

**Stan Marsh: **but you can tell me I look cute

**Craig Tucker: **I didn't say you can't say it, you can say it as much as you want. I just don't know how to respond, that's my own fault

**Craig Tucker: **And yes, I can call you anything I want

**Stan Marsh: **really

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, you did look cute

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Craig Tucker: **With your lips all swollen and you're pupils dialated and you cheeks all red and you clothes all messed up

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, it was pretty damn cute

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **who notices stuff like that

**Stan Marsh: **jfc

**Craig Tucker: **What, I'm not allowed to appreciate your looks

**Craig Tucker: **Fine, you were gross

**Stan Marsh: **thank you

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **hey..

**Stan Marsh: **do you want to dress up in each other's clothes, hats and all, and then do it?

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Stan Marsh: **...I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **We're just going to take them off anyway

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **well the clothes would come off but we could still pretend to be the other in bed

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Craig Tucker: **That just seems, I dunno, narcissistic

**Stan Marsh: **...I don't think you're getting it

**Craig Tucker: **What's not to get?

**Stan Marsh: **I would top you

**Craig Tucker: **Haha, really?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah, really.

**Craig Tucker: **I don't think you could handle that

**Stan Marsh: **really.

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **why's that

**Craig Tucker: **You're just. I don't know, extremely bottom

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **okay, why is extremely in front of that now

**Craig Tucker: **Hey, if you want to try, go for it, but I bet you I come out on top in the end

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **have you EVER been bottom?

**Craig Tucker: **No one's ever been able to top me

**Stan Marsh: **...really

**Craig Tucker: **Really

**Stan Marsh: **...is that a challenge

**Craig Tucker: **To be honest, the only guys I've ever slept with were Tweek and Kenny, the rest were women. And neither of them even tried

**Craig Tucker: **If you want it to be a challenge, be my guest

**Craig Tucker: **But I bet you don't succeed

**Stan Marsh: **hm, challenge accepted

**Craig Tucker: **...did you just meme me while we were talking about sex

**Craig Tucker: **I'm going to bed now

**Stan Marsh: **...why

**Craig Tucker: **Because that was just... don't ever to that; it was lame

**Stan Marsh: **I didn't intend to do a meme

**Stan Marsh: **is that one?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't keep up on those

**Craig Tucker: **images2 dot wikia dot nocookie dot net/_cb201204 28071353/adventuret imewithfin nandjake/images/a/a7/Challenge_accepted dot jpg

**Stan Marsh: **...that's a meme

**Stan Marsh: **it was unintentional then

**Stan Marsh: **are you still going to bed?

**Craig Tucker: **I guess not. I have to wait for my hat to be done nayway

**Craig Tucker: **anyway*

**Craig Tucker: **You really think you could top me?

**Stan Marsh: **yes

**Stan Marsh: **why?

**Craig Tucker: **I just couldn't even picture you toping a woman, let alone me

**Craig Tucker: **But hey, try your best

**Stan Marsh: **will do

**Craig Tucker: **You know, I think I'm going to go looking for an apartment this week. I'm sick of sneaking around my parents and having to gag you to fuck around

**Stan Marsh: **...how old are you

**Craig Tucker: **I already have a down payment saved

**Craig Tucker: **18

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **how are you older than me

**Craig Tucker: **Because my parents fucked before your's did?

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **...hey, I'm jailbait

**Craig Tucker: **Fantastic self image

**Stan Marsh: **disturbing

**Craig Tucker: **You're not even a year younger than me, come the fuck on

**Stan Marsh: **haha..

**Craig Tucker: **Why is my age even pertinent? I'm talking about an apartment

**Stan Marsh: **I didn't know you could get one

**Stan Marsh: **unless you're 18, which you are

**Craig Tucker: **Thank you for your approval

**Stan Marsh: **whatever

**Craig Tucker: **So hey, you said you see this being really long term, right?

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah, why?

**Craig Tucker: **And that means we won't be sleeping with anyone else, right?

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah

**Craig Tucker: **So if you want kids anyway, does that mean we have to keep using condoms?

**Craig Tucker: **They're expensive

**Stan Marsh: **...aren't you supposed to use them every time?

**Stan Marsh: **...wait

**Stan Marsh: **omg you bastard

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not a chick

**Craig Tucker: **Hahaha, relax it was a joke

**Craig Tucker: **But they are expensive

**Stan Marsh: **...have you ever done it without one?

**Craig Tucker: **And if we're going to only be sleeping with each other, there's no risk of STDs

**Craig Tucker: **Um... yes

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Craig Tucker: **Believe me, I know I don't have anything. Tweek was so fucking paranoid, I was checked like 8 times

**Stan Marsh: **isn't it messy without

**Craig Tucker: **Well... it would go inside you.. or I could not

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **what if I bought the condoms

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh, no I can buy them

**Stan Marsh: **why does it matter who buys them

**Stan Marsh: **seriously

**Stan Marsh: **just let me buy them

**Craig Tucker: **I don't really care, but now I'm imagining the look on your face when you hand the guy at the check out counter a box of condoms and he looks at you funny and you have to pay for them hahaha

**Craig Tucker: **I only really suggested not using them because it's like... never mind

**Stan Marsh: **...more fun?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, but that's not what I was going to say

**Stan Marsh: **what were you going to say?

**Craig Tucker: **Nothing

**Stan Marsh: **say it

**Craig Tucker: **No fuck you I don't want to

**Stan Marsh: **what the hell

**Stan Marsh: **Just say it

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Stan Marsh: **say it

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Stan Marsh: **because you can't just say it and then say nevermind you could have erased that before you sent it but you sent it just to tease the fuck out of me so say it

**Craig Tucker: **Because it's more intimate without one

**Stan Marsh: **...you want to be more intimate with me?

**Craig Tucker: **What gave you that idea

**Stan Marsh: **asshole

**Stan Marsh: **fine

**Stan Marsh: **I guess we can do it

**Craig Tucker: **No, you've never had come inside you before, you don't know what it feels like

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **okay this whole conversation was weird but that somehow made it even stranger

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **...so.

**Craig Tucker: **So?

**Stan Marsh: **Well what the hell

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **you just told me no after I said yes

**Craig Tucker: **Lets just drop it, I'll keep buying them

**Stan Marsh: **no, wait

**Stan Marsh: **how am I ever supposed to figure it out if you don't do it once, jfc

**Stan Marsh: **seriously

**Craig Tucker: **Is that something you_ want_ to feel?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **who wants to feel that

**Stan Marsh: **I thought it's one of those things you just do

**Craig Tucker: **Some people like it, I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **It's one of those "I want to feel you inside me" kinks, I don't know, I want to drop the subject

**Stan Marsh: **so does that mean you have a I want to feel your insides kink?

**Craig Tucker: **No, you would. There wouldn't be anything inside me

**Stan Marsh: **well

**Stan Marsh: **it's only like the third time

**Stan Marsh: **I kind of want to get tested

**Stan Marsh: **so we should wait

**Craig Tucker: **Okay

**Stan Marsh: **I didn't have sex but I did a lot of other stuff so it's probably for the best to go get checked

**Stan Marsh: **just so you know

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want you to think I like

**Stan Marsh: **slept around or something

**Craig Tucker: **That's cool, I'm not going to say no to getting tested, that would be stupid

**Craig Tucker: **But I've been tested so many fucking times

**Stan Marsh: **you don't have to

**Craig Tucker: **I'm saying if you want me to, I will, it's not like I'm new to it

**Stan Marsh: **don't worry about it

**Stan Marsh: **can we switch the topic?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I'm starting to fall asleep and I kind of wanted to talk to you about something

**Craig Tucker: **What?

**Stan Marsh: **I spent the evening talking to Kenny about stuff

**Craig Tucker: **What kind of stuff?

**Stan Marsh: **pretty much you

**Stan Marsh: **and it was very fucking awkward

**Craig Tucker: **Um, what did you talk about

**Stan Marsh: **he misses you a lot and said he shouldn't have broken up with you

**Stan Marsh: **it was just...

**Stan Marsh: **I don't even know

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, he told me that today, too.. And then he asked if I wanted to smoke up

**Craig Tucker: **And when I told him no, I think he got upset

**Stan Marsh: **he got pissed at me earlier

**Craig Tucker: **Cause he asked why and I said it was to stop your drinking

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Stan Marsh: **...yep

**Stan Marsh: **that's why

**Craig Tucker: **Oh

**Stan Marsh: **because he said he's wanted me to stop since I started and then I try quitting for you

**Craig Tucker: **As long as your stopping why does it matter who it's for

**Craig Tucker: **It's about incentive

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **then he talked about not being my friend anymore

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know how long I can last without a beer, craig

**Stan Marsh: **I'm seriously depressed

**Craig Tucker: **Don't, Stan

**Craig Tucker: **It's not healthy

**Craig Tucker: **You realize I've near picked you up off the floor at least 5 times in the past week and a half?

**Craig Tucker: **You're going to die

**Craig Tucker: **And that's not okay with me

**Stan Marsh: **it hasn't been that often has it?

**Craig Tucker: **It has

**Stan Marsh: **...I know it's bad but seriously

**Craig Tucker: **Isn't there some other way you can let out the stress?

**Craig Tucker: **A healthy way?

**Craig Tucker: **Do one of your creative things or something

**Craig Tucker: **You just need to take your mid off things, right?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah..

**Craig Tucker: **What helps you do that?

**Craig Tucker: **That's not alcohol

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **Um.. Is there anything I can do?

**Craig Tucker: **probably not, considering no one else can, but..

**Craig Tucker: **I dunno, I just want you to stop.

**Stan Marsh: **you've already suggested sex

**Craig Tucker: **Actually, I think that was you

**Craig Tucker: **But you said you didn't want to do that

**Stan Marsh: **what?

**Stan Marsh: **oh

**Stan Marsh: **not without a condom yet

**Stan Marsh: **not quit completely, jfc

**Craig Tucker: **No, I'm pretty sure we've had this same conversation before

**Craig Tucker: **And I asked if there was anything you liked more that alcohol, and you said sex

**Stan Marsh: **are you sure I was sober?

**Craig Tucker: **I don't even know, Stan

**Stan Marsh: **I talk about a lot when I'm drunk

**Stan Marsh: **that I have no fucking clue I talked about it later

**Craig Tucker: **Well is that something that would help? Cause that I can definitely help with

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Craig Tucker: **Will it actually help?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't actually know

**Stan Marsh: **I haven't done it before

**Stan Marsh: **I actually started smoking cigarettes to quit drinking alcohol

**Stan Marsh: **Then I just had two addictions..

**Stan Marsh: **Guess the only bad result could be that I turn into a sex addict, but whatever

**Craig Tucker: **Maybe you just need less stress..

**Stan Marsh: **like that'll happen

**Craig Tucker: **Well, um.. what's causing most of your stress right now

**Stan Marsh: **...multiple things

**Craig Tucker: **...fix them

**Stan Marsh: **I try to fix them

**Craig Tucker: **What are the problems?

**Stan Marsh: **uh...

**Stan Marsh: **Kenny

**Craig Tucker: **...

**Craig Tucker: **You can fix that one..

**Stan Marsh: **how

**Craig Tucker: **Um

**Craig Tucker: **I could just back off..

**Stan Marsh: **...what?

**Stan Marsh: **what are you saying

**Craig Tucker: **I'm saying you need to fix your relationship with Kenny so you can stop killing yourself

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **that's not what you're saying

**Stan Marsh: **you're saying you want to break up, aren't you

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Craig Tucker: **Fuck no

**Stan Marsh: **what the hell does back off mean

**Craig Tucker: **That's the only way you can fix things with Kenny, that doesn't mean I want to.

**Stan Marsh: **but what does that involve

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know..

**Stan Marsh: **no, look

**Stan Marsh: **Kenny has been a douche to me for the last week

**Stan Marsh: **even before this started

**Stan Marsh: **I've done nothing but try to make it up to him and help him and be there and he keeps using the suicide thing against me

**Stan Marsh: **I just don't know what to do anymore but you're like

**Stan Marsh: **the only thing that isn't fucked up right now in my life so no

**Stan Marsh: **you're not going to back off

**Craig Tucker: **really?

**Stan Marsh: **yes

**Craig Tucker: **Then how am I supposed to help

**Stan Marsh: **..give me a lot of hugs?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **A lot of hugs

**Craig Tucker: **That's all I have to do

**Stan Marsh: **...yes

**Stan Marsh: **my sleep deprived brain is thinking that's the best solution

**Stan Marsh: **to everything

**Craig Tucker: **But I already give you lots of hugs

**Craig Tucker: **And we've slept together near every night for the past two weeks

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not saying it's bad, I'm just saying

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **look, it's really late, and I'm really tired...

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know how it will help if it already isn't

**Craig Tucker: **Go to bed then

**Craig Tucker: **Maybe sleep will help, too

**Stan Marsh: **yeah...

**Stan Marsh: **well, we can talk about it tomorrow

**Stan Marsh: **i'll be more awake

**Stan Marsh: **night craig

**Craig Tucker: **Night, Stan

**Craig Tucker: **Just don't drink, okay?

**Stan Marsh: **there is no alcohol here

**Stan Marsh: **I couldn't if I wanted to, and I don't want to

**Craig Tucker: **Alright, have a good night then

**Stan Marsh: **night

**Craig Tucker: **Good night

**Stan Marsh: **...good night


	22. 05 27 2012

05.27.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **...hey craig

**Craig Tucker: **Hey

**Stan Marsh: **what's up?

**Craig Tucker: **Nothing, really

**Stan Marsh: **guess that's good

**Craig Tucker: **I guess

**Stan Marsh: **I've been at work all morning

**Stan Marsh: **umn...this apartment thing

**Stan Marsh: **Can you afford it?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, why?

**Stan Marsh: **...like, utilities, internet, food?

**Stan Marsh: **And a pet?

**Craig Tucker: **Well I might have to pick up more hours

**Stan Marsh: **are you going to college?

**Craig Tucker: **I haven't been working a lot the past week

**Craig Tucker: **Maybe?

**Stan Marsh: **...I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **You don't know what?

**Stan Marsh: **I mean, are you expecting me to move in with you?

**Stan Marsh: **because that'd split the cost

**Craig Tucker: **Um... I wasn't expecting it, no

**Stan Marsh: **okay..

**Craig Tucker: **I mean you're going to be over a lot anyway, right?

**Stan Marsh: **...well, yeah

**Stan Marsh: **But I'm just saying it's a lot of money

**Stan Marsh: **that's why Shelly still sort of lives at home

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah.. I was kind of counting of Kenny to some of it, but I'll probably be able to manage

**Stan Marsh: **...uh

**Craig Tucker: **Sorry, I know that's probably awkward but it's true

**Stan Marsh: **I know

**Stan Marsh: **I'm just not good with money

**Craig Tucker: **I know how to budget, for the most part

**Craig Tucker: **But if I'm paying for all this shit, I won't be able to do a lot else

**Stan Marsh: **yeah...I know

**Stan Marsh: **...I guess I could move in but I'd have to ask my mom

**Craig Tucker: **Um, is that something you want to do?

**Stan Marsh: **well, not really..but I don't want you going into debt just getting an apartment so we can bang in peace. which really, it's not even, because there's other people in apartments too and you can get kicked out for making too much noise, so we're pretty much fucked either way.

**Craig Tucker: **That's not the only reason I'm moving, dumbass, I've been planning on moving for like a month now

**Stan Marsh: **why?

**Stan Marsh: **you have the attic

**Stan Marsh: **that's like the best fucking place in the house

**Craig Tucker: **So? I want my own place

**Craig Tucker: **And Ruby's got the basement, that's way better than the attic

**Stan Marsh: **then switch

**Craig Tucker: **That's dumb, no

**Craig Tucker: **Why are you against me doing this?

**Stan Marsh: **because shelly goes through a lot of shit trying to have her own place and has lost it like twice so

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want you doing it alone

**Craig Tucker: **It'll be okay, it's not like I'm going somewhere expensive

**Stan Marsh: **and then there's safety

**Craig Tucker: **There's really cheap rent just outside town, still South Park addresses. It's only like 550 a month

**Stan Marsh: **that's too far away

**Craig Tucker: **What, okay

**Craig Tucker: **I want to do this, it's not going to hurt me

**Craig Tucker: **It's not like if I fall on my ass my parents won't let me move back in

**Stan Marsh: **I guess

**Stan Marsh: **well go ahead

**Stan Marsh: **your credit scores are going to suck ass though further down the road if you can't afford the bills

**Craig Tucker: **I can afford it, Christ. I hardly ever spend money, it's all in the fucking bank

**Craig Tucker: **And I can pick up more hours

**Stan Marsh: **dude, I'm not stupid. I know you smoke pot and that's not exactly cheap

**Stan Marsh: **and I know you gave it up but

**Stan Marsh: **that's not saving

**Stan Marsh: **I pretty much spend all my money when I make it, so I don't really have a savings

**Craig Tucker: **I didn't smoke that much, and a dime is only ten fucking dollars

**Stan Marsh: **...a dime?

**Stan Marsh: **I have no clue what you just said but I assume it's marijuana

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, it's a weight. I didn't smoke that much.

**Stan Marsh: **..have you smoked it since we quit?

**Craig Tucker: **That wasn't even $10 a week I spent

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Stan Marsh: **because I really don't want you to stop

**Stan Marsh: **it's not like you have no control over your addiction, that's just me.

**Stan Marsh: **you shouldn't suffer with me

**Craig Tucker: **Well you told me to stop, and if it'll help you quit then I don't care

**Stan Marsh: **and I already drank once so the deal is off, don't be miserable

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not going to drink though

**Stan Marsh: **so don't worry about it

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not miserable, fuck, it's just weed

**Stan Marsh: **then I don't care if you smoke it

**Craig Tucker: **If anything, not smoking probably saved me a really awkward night with Kenny

**Stan Marsh: **just so you know

**Stan Marsh: **what?

**Stan Marsh: **oh yeah...kenny smokes it too

**Stan Marsh: **dude he was getting it from you?

**Craig Tucker: **So fucking relax, how did we get into this conversation

**Craig Tucker: **No, I don't sell, what the fuck

**Craig Tucker: **That's too risky, no

**Stan Marsh: **...could be another source of income

**Stan Marsh: **haha, just kidding.

**Craig Tucker: **Right, okay, we're done with this conversation because somehow it went weird

**Stan Marsh: **doesn't it always go weird

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, I guess

**Stan Marsh: **i don't know, I don't think I want to move in with you

**Stan Marsh: **no offense, it's just..

**Stan Marsh: **I've already failed a couple things

**Stan Marsh: **and I kind of want to get that football scholarship

**Craig Tucker: **Failed? And none taken, that's a giant step

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah.

**Craig Tucker: **Then work toward it

**Stan Marsh: **I know

**Craig Tucker: **Wait, you mean failed in school?

**Craig Tucker: **Dude, why

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah

**Stan Marsh: **...like that quiz

**Craig Tucker: **...

**Stan Marsh: **I didn't really know the shit anyways

**Craig Tucker: **do you need more time to study

**Stan Marsh: **I don't really study

**Stan Marsh: **I'm like an average C student..

**Stan Marsh: **the only reason I got Bs was because I studied sometimes with Wendy or Kyle

**Craig Tucker: **It's a football scholarship, don't you just need to play football?

**Stan Marsh: **you need certain grades too

**Craig Tucker: **Then make sure you get the grades

**Stan Marsh: **yeah...so I might have to study

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not going to offer to help because there's no way we'd study

**Craig Tucker: **But I can give you class notes and stuff

**Stan Marsh: **haha..

**Craig Tucker: **If you're that worried about it then Study with Broflovski

**Stan Marsh: **I haven't really hung out with kyle lately

**Stan Marsh: **or Kenny

**Craig Tucker: **I know it might seem weird, but Ruby is really smart

**Stan Marsh: **we talk but..

**Craig Tucker: **Ask her

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **she's like

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **are you calling me stupid?

**Stan Marsh: **she's like three grades below me

**Craig Tucker: **No, I'm saying she's smart

**Stan Marsh: **okay, yeah

**Stan Marsh: **she might be smart

**Stan Marsh: **but..okay, whatever

**Craig Tucker: **It was just a suggestion, fuck

**Stan Marsh: **we still haven't really met each other's families since this happened

**Stan Marsh: **do we have to do that

**Craig Tucker: **If you want. I haven't exactly said anything, but I'm not trying to hide it anymore

**Craig Tucker: **If you want to meet them , you can, but they're... weird

**Stan Marsh: **uh

**Stan Marsh: **I don't really want you to meet my dad

**Stan Marsh: **it's embarrassing enough he gets in the papers

**Craig Tucker: **It's okay, I don't care about your family. It's not like they'll influence my opinion of you

**Craig Tucker: **Don't take that the wrong way

**Craig Tucker: **Like I care

**Craig Tucker: **But I don't care if they're freaks

**Stan Marsh: **...no, really

**Stan Marsh: **they might

**Stan Marsh: **I tried bringing wendy over as little as possible when my dad was home

**Stan Marsh: **but

**Stan Marsh: **he's always there, so

**Craig Tucker: **Well I've managed to not run into him so far

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I wouldn't mind telling ruby with you

**Stan Marsh: **if you haven't already

**Stan Marsh: **but you probably won't meet shelly for like a year

**Craig Tucker: **I'm pretty sure Ruby knows by now, like I said, she's smart. But alright

**Stan Marsh: **want to do that today?

**Craig Tucker: **Sure

**Stan Marsh: **uh..

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **let me finish my homework and I can come over

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know, I don't really like my sister

**Stan Marsh: **I think ruby is awesome

**Craig Tucker: **Eh, she's okay

**Craig Tucker: **We don't talk much

**Stan Marsh: **better then my sister

**Craig Tucker: **Maybe

**Stan Marsh: **I have scars from my sister, really

**Stan Marsh: **so to talk normally with a sibling would be awesome but in no way will it ever happen

**Craig Tucker: **...scars

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Craig Tucker: **Um, yeah, Ruby is cool..

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Craig Tucker: **Well I'm going to let you finish your homework, and then you can come over whenever

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Craig Tucker: **See you then, you don't really need to tell me before you show up

**Stan Marsh: **all right

**Stan Marsh: **but yeah, I've got multiple scars

**Stan Marsh: **I'm surprised you didn't notice

**Stan Marsh: **they're probably light though

**Craig Tucker: **How would I know what they're from?

**Stan Marsh: **well I am more familiar with the steps then any other person in my house

**Craig Tucker: **You play sports, it could have been anything

**Craig Tucker: **That fucking sucks

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Stan Marsh: **when we were younger she used to shove me down them like

**Stan Marsh: **every other day

**Stan Marsh: **i actually had to wait for her to go down to avoid being shoved

**Craig Tucker: **What a dick.

**Stan Marsh: **pretty much

**Stan Marsh: **I just avoid her now

**Craig Tucker: **...are you okay?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah, why?

**Stan Marsh: **I got used to it

**Craig Tucker: **That's fucked up

**Craig Tucker: **That's not something you get used to

**Stan Marsh: **well

**Stan Marsh: **she has anger issues

**Stan Marsh: **so when she got pissed off at school she came home and beat me up

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, I have anger issues too, but I don't go home and beat people, that's fucking stupid

**Stan Marsh: **I'm glad

**Stan Marsh: **and yeah, it's stupid

**Stan Marsh: **but she always did it when my parents weren't looking, so they never figured it out

**Craig Tucker: **Well I'm sure one of you will move out soon anyway, especially if you're going to college

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Stan Marsh: **but if you think I'm an awful drunk, god

**Stan Marsh: **you should see her

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **don't worry about it, she doesn't really do it anymore

**Stan Marsh: **I mean, yeah

**Stan Marsh: **she tries pushing me

**Stan Marsh: **but I can actually hold on to the railing now, haha

**Craig Tucker: **Okay stop because you're making me want to kick your sister's ass and somehow I don't think that's okay.

**Stan Marsh: **yeah I wouldn't want you to

**Stan Marsh: **but thanks

**Craig Tucker: **Thanks?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah.

**Stan Marsh: **wendy just ignored it

**Stan Marsh: **I mean, she must have talked to shelly sometime

**Stan Marsh: **but I don't think she ever said she was going to beat my sister up

**Stan Marsh: **kyle just thinks it sucks and moves on with something else

**Stan Marsh: **cartman just found it hilarious, but he's a dick

**Craig Tucker: **Well I'm seriously considering doing it

**Craig Tucker: **But I won't

**Stan Marsh: **never really asked kenny what he thought about it

**Craig Tucker: **...don't ask Kenny

**Stan Marsh: **but yeah

**Stan Marsh: **why?

**Craig Tucker: **Just don't ask him about stuff like that

**Stan Marsh: **why?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't get it, why would that be bad

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not going to tell you about his personal life, that's his business

**Craig Tucker: **But I wouldn't ask

**Stan Marsh: **dude, I already know

**Stan Marsh: **I've threatened to take on his dad but he won't let me

**Stan Marsh: **seriously, I don't try defending myself against shelly because she's a girl

**Stan Marsh: **but I can beat the crap out of someone, yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I just don't

**Craig Tucker: **Well I don't give a fuck if she's a girl or not, if she's hurting you, just saying.

**Stan Marsh: **eh

**Stan Marsh: **I avoid her, like I said

**Stan Marsh: **I mean, she's done nice shit for me

**Stan Marsh: **Like

**Stan Marsh: **seldomly

**Stan Marsh: **But it has happened

**Craig Tucker: **That's good

**Stan Marsh: **yeah...

**Craig Tucker: **So are you done with your homework yet?

**Stan Marsh: **umn, yeah

**Stan Marsh: **it was just bookwork

**Stan Marsh: **I mean, dude, it's not a big deal if I get beat up

**Stan Marsh: **I'm used to it

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah.. you should come over now if you're done

**Stan Marsh: **now who punches hard is wendy, damn

**Stan Marsh: **she's got one hell of an arm

**Craig Tucker: **...

**Stan Marsh: **what?

**Craig Tucker: **nothing

**Stan Marsh: **it's okay

**Stan Marsh: **jesus, you act like you've never been punched before

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **okay, whatever

**Stan Marsh: **Coming over

**Craig Tucker: **Alright

* * *

Stan walked over to Craig's house at a leisurely pace, and even stopped once to pet the neighbor's new cat. Really, he was trying to distract himself, because Craig had acted weird when he mentioned his history with his sister, and then Wendy. With a frown, he reached the other's door and opened it and walked inside, and then walked up the steps to the attic.

"Hey," He said as he opened the door, looking in.

"**Hey," Craig says back, looking up from his spot on his floor. He'd been playing around with Stripe and was just putting him back in his pen when Stan walked in. He was trying to not be pissed off, and Stripe normally has that effect, but damn, why are all these people fucking beating on Stan? Or, were. That's right, Stan said it doesn't happen anymore, so it's okay. He stares at Stripe, staring back up at him, for a few seconds before shifting his gaze up to actually look at Stan.**

Noticing Craig was with Stripe, he decided to walk over to Craig's computer chair and sat down to take off his shoes. He didn't seem too pissed off, but then again, Stan could never tell what Craig was thinking anyways. Getting one shoe off he set it on the floor before he said, "You okay? You're sort of quiet."

"**Yeah, I'm okay," he says, standing from Stripe's pen. They've had a lot of weird conversations in the past few days, more than just the abuse thing. Like Stan moving in, and having sex without condoms. They're acting like… like they've been together a lot longer than they actually have been. Maybe Token was right about the whole 'it was always there' thing. "You want to go see if Ruby's home?" he asks, remembering that that's why Stan is there.**

"Sure," He said as he pulled off his other boot, and then set it next to the other one. He wondered vaguely what Craig was thinking, but decided against asking. Standing up from Craig's wooden computer chair, he moved over to Stripe's pen to bend down and pet him on the head before he walked over to Craig's door and opened it, "Basement, right?"

**Craig stands and stretches a bit, having been sitting on the floor with Stripe for a while. "Yeah," he says, moving to follow Stan out the door. This might be an interesting conversation, but then again it might not be. Depending on Ruby's mood, she'll either ask way too many unnecessary questions or she'll not care at all. Craig kind of hopes she won't care at all, because she might try to make things awkward.**

Walking down the steps, he wandered through the hall and headed towards where he thought the basement might be. Really, he had only been in Craig's house a few times, and for all he knew, a door to what he thought was the basement would be to a closet or something. He decided to wait for Craig to pass him by so he could follow him to the basement instead, and then hesitated a moment and said, "So are you going to take me in her room or are we just going to call her out, because I don't really want to go in her space."

**Craig passes Stan easily, not expecting Stan to lead him through his own house anyway. "Relax, she won't eat you if you go in her room," he says, trying to let Stan know that it's just Ruby, really, she's not going to do anything. He opens the door to the basement and makes his way down the steps. There's another door at the bottom that he's going to have to knock on anyway, so he never bothers to knock on the first one. He stands at the bottom of the steps for a second, thinking. Then he looks over at Stan and holds out a hand before knocking. This is going to be extremely gay anyway, why not go all out? Besides, he hasn't really gotten to hold Stan's hand yet.**

Glaring slightly at Craig for saying 'she won't eat you', he really wondered if Craig paid attention to him at all. He had been eating less just because Damien threatened that - to have Craig say it, it unknowingly made him a large asshole. Figuring he hadn't meant it that way though, even if it was difficult to push it from his mind, Stan walked down the steps and then waited for Craig to open the door. When the other stuck out his hand, he looked down at it, wondering why he wanted to shake hands when he realized he wanted to hold hands. ...what.

"Um..." Stan muttered, looking down at Craig's hand, and raising an eyebrow as he gently placed his hand in Craig's. He averted his eyes and blushed slightly, wondering why the hell Craig would want to hold hands. Well, maybe this was what siblings actually did - try to get a rise out of each other without killing one another.

**When Stan puts his hand in Craig's, he knocks on the door and holds Stan's hand snugly in his own. He kind of wonders what Stan thinks about it, considering they haven't really done that before now. It's not like this is any kind of special occasion, Craig just felt like holding his hand. "Open up Ruby, it's me," he says loudly, assuming she'd be listening to music or something. If she's even in there; she normally goes out on the weekends.**

_Hearing the knock, and then Craig's voice, Ruby rolls her eyes and sets down her book. He only ever comes down there when he's got a fucking problem, and he always expects her to have the answers. Why her? She swings the door open and says, "What," rather plainly. Then she notices Stan standing there, too, and her eye catches their interlinked fingers. So _that's_ what this is about. She stands aside and motions for them to come in, resisting the urge to snicker that Craig actually brought Stan down there. She doesn't think Craig has ever bothered to bring someone to meet her._

Walking in with Craig, he didn't bother looking around. It was awkward enough he was in Ruby's room, it felt like he was invading her privacy. What if she had something embarrassing lying around like a bra? He kept his eyes averted to the floor though, because he really didn't want to see someone laugh at the sight of him and Craig holding hands. That'd probably be enough for him to never want to hold hands with Craig again. But it was strange, Craig's hand fit pretty well with his - then again, he was always told he had really feminine hands, and they were probably smaller then what most guys' were.

**Once inside the doorway, Craig just kind of looks at Ruby and says, "So I'm dating this kid." He holds up their hands, like Ruby didn't already notice, and then lets them fall to their sides again, keeping them attached. "You've met, right?" he says more than asks, not really knowing what else he's supposed to say in this kind of situation. He just hopes Ruby will accept it and kick them out because he really doesn't want to talk to her about it. There's not much he could tell her that she really wants to know, anyway.**

_Ruby's eyes flick to their hands when Craig holds them up, and she has to resist saying 'I knew that was coming.' Because really, who _didn't_ know that was coming? "Uhh… congrats," she says, not knowing how she's supposed to react to that. Why does she care who he's dating? Though, it's interesting, considering she'd helped convince him to get with Kenny a while back. She gives Stan a once over, trying to decide what to say to him. Apparently little-sister-approval is important here. "Well he's not as adorable as Tweek was, but he's cute I guess. Is there anything else you want?"_

"...what?" Stan said automatically, his eyes narrowing at Ruby. Did she really just compare him to one of Craig's exs? He felt a bit ill at hearing it, and then loosened his grip on Craig's hand almost instinctively, which the other probably would notice. "Umn...nice seeing you again Ruby, I'm just going to go." He let go of Craig's hand and turned to leave the room, feeling sort of awkward being in there anyways. Once on the other side, he started up the stairs, wondering if it was going to be this awkward every time someone acknowledged him and Craig together in the same space.

**Craig notices Stan's grip loosen and shoots Ruby a glare for bringing up Tweek. When Stan lets go completely and heads back up the stairs, Craig sighs frustratedly and gives Ruby a look. "Why the fuck did you say that?" he asks. Ruby could have said pretty much anything else, but bringing up Tweek? Why? "He cared what you thought, thanks for the help," he says sarcastically, turning to follow Stan. He catches him at the top of the stairs by slipping his hand back into Stan's. "Hey, she didn't mean it, okay? I told you she was a twat," he says, wrapping his free arm around Stan's shoulders in a hug.**

"No, it's fine," Stan said, sighing as he felt the other snag his hand back into a hold, and then wrap his arm around him. It was starting to feel awkward again, and he really didn't want to tell Craig what he was thinking about. A lot had been on his mind, and he didn't exactly tell Craig all his problems last night.

"Look, I'm just going to go home..do you want to go stargazing tonight?"

"**Um," Craig starts, not realizing that a comment from Ruby would make Stan actually go home. His hold on Stan falls away and he only lightly keeps Stan's hand in his, assuming that Stan didn't want it to be there and that he'd just want to pull it away. "Yeah," is all he says, even if he doesn't really want Stan to go home. It's not like he's going to keep Stan there against his will or something. And they'll go do this stargazing thing tonight that Stan wants, and then maybe Stan will feel better.**

**In all reality, Craig is a little nervous about going. He knows Stan is a 'romantic' kind of person, and Craig doesn't know how he feels about being 'romanced.' That just seems way too lovey, and Craig's never really gotten that much into that kind of thing. It might be a really uncomfortable experience, but he's going to do it anyway. He wants to do whatever Stan wants to do, so it's whatever.**

"Yeah..." Stan repeated what Craig said, and then pulled away to walk towards the front door. "Umn, by the way, I usually work Sunday mornings. Just so you know. I don't think I've ever told you when I work...I do some nights but not so much lately, nothing's opened up. A lot of college students work at the movie theater, so they've been off for the summer and they're taking a lot of the hours." He put his hand on the door knob, frowning slightly. He kind of wanted to give Craig a goodbye kiss, but he was too flustered from holding hands in front of Craig's sister. Why did he have to make him uncomfortable? Couldn't he have picked a better moment to do a first hand-holding?

"...is it okay if I leave?" He knew it sounded whipped, but he really didn't care at the moment.

**Craig is disappointed when Stan actually lets go, and he really doesn't understand what's going on. "Yeah, um, I work almost every day right after school, and some nights…" he says, just kind of returning the favor of telling Stan when he's busy. He bites the inside of his cheek, not moving away from his spot in the hallway as he watches Stan go for the door without even giving him a proper good bye. What the fuck is going on. "Yeah, you can go…" he says, trying to be as hurt as he is by all of this. He's probably just going to go lay in the dark and listen to his iPod way too loud after this, since he's not smoking. He has to forget about it somehow, right?**

Sighing, Stan walked over to Craig and gave him a quick kiss, and then headed for the door and shut it behind him. He walked home with his hands deep in his pockets, feeling extremely crummy. He wished he could talk to someone about it...but he was pretty sure it would just piss Craig off.

**As soon as Stan leaves, Craig just goes back up to his room and does exactly what he'd planned; sulks under his blankets with his iPod. He really has no idea what the fuck just happened, and it's going to bother him until Stan tells him what's going on… **_**if**_** Stan tells him what's going on.**

* * *

**Craig Tucker: **Hey

**Stan Marsh: **hey

**Craig Tucker: **So, um, are you okay? You know Ruby didn't mean it, right

**Craig Tucker: **She likes you, she was just being a dick because that's what she does

**Stan Marsh: **it's fine..

**Craig Tucker: **..okay

**Stan Marsh: **I've just been thinking a lot

**Craig Tucker: **What about?

**Stan Marsh: **umn...it's nothing big

**Stan Marsh: **just stuff

**Craig Tucker: **Ah

**Stan Marsh: **...did you want to know about it?

**Craig Tucker: **Not if you don't want to tell me

**Stan Marsh: **I just don't usually talk to anyone but kyle about stuff

**Craig Tucker: **Well, I mean, it's not like I'm going to judge you at this point

**Stan Marsh: **uh...

**Craig Tucker: **If you don't want to tell me, then don't, it's not like I'm going to make you

**Stan Marsh: **It's just

**Stan Marsh: **How long were you dating Kenny?

**Craig Tucker: **Um, a week or so...

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not sure

**Stan Marsh: **and you were planning on getting an apartment with him after a week

**Stan Marsh: **maybe this isn't as strong as we think it is. maybe we're just into it because it's new and we've been doing the same thing for like, a number of years, so it's exciting.

**Craig Tucker: **That was because he was my friend first, and he needed somewhere to go.

**Stan Marsh: **maybe that's why you can't say it

**Craig Tucker: **Um...

**Craig Tucker: **Is that what's bothering you?

**Stan Marsh: **not the only thing

**Craig Tucker: **what else?

**Stan Marsh: **I just miss Wendy

**Stan Marsh: **Not like I want to be with her or anything

**Stan Marsh: **I just miss her being around

**Stan Marsh: **and kyle and kenny...I mean, it's weird

**Stan Marsh: **last night Kenny was telling me he was having second thoughts about being with kyle

**Stan Marsh: **and that's going to ruin kyle

**Stan Marsh: **I don't even know what's going on anymore, I hate this

**Craig Tucker: **Well, um... you can still hang around with Wendy. And I don't know why it's weird with Kyle and Kenny, but why is Kenny having second thoughts?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **Because he misses you

**Craig Tucker: **...I'm not going back to him...

**Stan Marsh: **I know

**Craig Tucker: **But he doesn't

**Craig Tucker: **At first I told him this was a trial, because it was, but I haven't exactly updated him

**Stan Marsh: **He's probably going to hate me forever

**Craig Tucker: **No he won't

**Craig Tucker: **Not forever

**Stan Marsh: **I guess

**Stan Marsh: **if you say so

**Craig Tucker: **Um, and about the I love you thing... I just want to make sure I really mean it before I say it. That doesn't mean this isn't strong. It doesn't even mean I don't. It just means I'm not ready to say it..

**Craig Tucker: **I mean

**Craig Tucker: **I like this, a lot

**Stan Marsh: **yeah..

**Stan Marsh: **It's just a lot of change.

**Craig Tucker: **yeah, it is

**Stan Marsh: **I had like everything planned out with Wendy

**Stan Marsh: **but then people started getting pissy with her all the time saying she didn't treat me well..

**Stan Marsh: **I mean, she was nice to me, I thought

**Stan Marsh: **but then again, I got used to shelly beating me up and thought that was normal for siblings, I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **And then me and kenny had...something going on, I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **I'm just really confused.

**Craig Tucker: **what do you want?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **I want to be happy

**Stan Marsh: **But every time I try that it goes to shit, so I think I'm just not meant to be happy.

**Craig Tucker: **That's bullshit, okay. You're supposed to be happy, you just might have to wait before you can fix anything

**Craig Tucker: **Shit takes time to fix

**Stan Marsh: **yeah, meanwhile I'm miserable

**Craig Tucker: **No, meanwhile you make the best of the good parts

**Stan Marsh: **I feel like you feel it's you causing it, it's not

**Stan Marsh: **just when ruby reminded me of tweek, I remembered you talking about him

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **I'm blasting depressing music and wallowing in sadness, I'm sorry if I sound like a downer.

**Craig Tucker: **Tweek is just, I dunno, I kinda miss him too, but I miss him being my bro, not my boyfriend

**Craig Tucker: **Ever since that trip he took, things have just been awkward

**Stan Marsh: **I guess

**Stan Marsh: **I never was bros with Wendy

**Stan Marsh: **hell, we even pretended we were married when we were kids

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **it felt like I was married to her

**Craig Tucker: **That'll just take time to get over, too..

**Stan Marsh: **I'm a shitty person.

**Stan Marsh: **like you don't even know

**Craig Tucker: **You think I don't? How many people have I fucked over in the past three weeks?

**Stan Marsh: **I spent the whole week of your relationship with kenny asking him why because you were a douchebag, and kenny defended you, and told me to shut up about it, and I finally just said it was okay but I don't have to like it

**Stan Marsh: **then kenny told me all about how much he liked you

**Stan Marsh: **And then in the locker rooms I suggested that. don't forget I instigated it.

**Stan Marsh: **six years with the same girlfriend, and I loved her a lot, and I had my first time with you, and then told her about it after she spent a week trying to help me through everything

**Stan Marsh: **she was so goddamn patient

**Stan Marsh: **I even told her I was having gay thoughts and she was like okay, we could try something else, it'll be fine and I was like no, I don't want you to wear a strap on

**Stan Marsh: **I made you cheat

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know why you would care at all for me.

**Craig Tucker: **You were just doing what you wanted to do to make yourself happy. You seem like you're normally the helper, as in you're the one trying to fix everyone else's problems. You're allowed to be selfish once and a while. If you can't do what you want to make yourself happy then what the fuck is even the point in anything? Okay, I admit, the cheating was really shitty on both our parts, but you didn't make me do it. Maybe it was just bound to happen. At least that's what Token said. He said we've been at this for quite a long time, and maybe we just waited too long to make it official and ended up hurting people, I don't know. You don't need to feel shitty about any of that, though.

**Craig Tucker: **It's normal to feel shitty about ending a 6 year relationship, that's just how it works. If you didn't feel shitty, I'd question why you were with her for so long in the first place

**Craig Tucker: **And I care about you because.. I just do. You make me feel good, and we have fun, and you like playing with my hair and we're always laying around together, and you want to take me on a date, what the fuck is that, no one takes me on dates, and you tried to stop me from killing myself even if I wasn't going to do it anyway, and you love me and stuff

**Stan Marsh: **...no one takes you on dates?

**Craig Tucker: **Well, no

**Stan Marsh: **and I don't even know how I feel about you talking to Token about us...that's kind of weird.

**Craig Tucker: **I went to get coffee with Tweek a few times, but that's not really a date

**Craig Tucker: **Don't worry about Token, he's fine

**Stan Marsh: **I just thought that..

**Craig Tucker: **What?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **Are you okay?

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Stan Marsh: **I want to drink

**Craig Tucker: **...

**Stan Marsh: **I'm sorry, but I do

**Stan Marsh: **it just happens when I'm depressed

**Craig Tucker: **then let me un-depress you

**Craig Tucker: **we can go do the stargazing thing

**Stan Marsh: **yeah..

**Craig Tucker: **or you can read my storyboards

**Craig Tucker: **or something

**Craig Tucker: **We can do whatever you want, okay

**Stan Marsh: **do you want to go now?

**Stan Marsh: **it's not dark yet but we could lay out for awhile

**Stan Marsh: **damien hasn't contacted me since yesterday so I think I'm starting to get less paranoid

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, if you want we can go now

**Stan Marsh: **hey craig..

**Stan Marsh: **what's your favorite video game?

**Craig Tucker: **I don't really know if I have one, why?

**Stan Marsh: **you don't have a favorite series or something?

**Craig Tucker: **Well, on the N64 they came out with a Red Racer game

**Craig Tucker: **I like playing that

**Stan Marsh: **what about mainstream ones?

**Craig Tucker: **And I like zombie games

**Stan Marsh: **I've never played a red racer game

**Craig Tucker: **And FPS games are okay

**Stan Marsh: **FPS?

**Stan Marsh: **which ones?

**Craig Tucker: **First person shooters?

**Stan Marsh: **noooooo, duh.

**Stan Marsh: **I know what FPS stands for

**Craig Tucker: **Um, I don't really have a preference, they're all pretty much the same

**Craig Tucker: **I just like killing virtual shit

**Stan Marsh: **okay...

**Stan Marsh: **what's your favorite zombie game

**Craig Tucker: **I like the Resident Evil series, I guess

**Craig Tucker: **If I had to pick

**Stan Marsh: **okay, that works

**Craig Tucker: **Why do you want to know?

**Stan Marsh: **no reason

**Craig Tucker: **I believe that

**Stan Marsh: **haha

**Craig Tucker: **What are you doing?

**Stan Marsh: **nothing

**Stan Marsh: **umn, where are we going?

**Stan Marsh: **I mean, there's the rock out by the edge of town

**Stan Marsh: **the one we used to throw rocks at the cars from

**Craig Tucker: **I just figured you had a place in mind; if that's where you want to go, we can

**Stan Marsh: **it's usually quiet there at night

**Craig Tucker: **Or since it's not dark yet, we can drive around and look for a place

**Craig Tucker: **Okay

**Stan Marsh: **..hey

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know what your favorite things are

**Stan Marsh: **what foods do you like?

**Craig Tucker: **Really

**Craig Tucker: **I like pizza, and oreos, and because of Clyde I have a weird insatiable need for Mexican food

**Stan Marsh: **Okay

**Craig Tucker: **I like a lot of food, actually

**Craig Tucker: **Breakfasts

**Craig Tucker: **And stuff

**Stan Marsh: **what about drinks?

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, pepsi? Dr. pepper?

**Craig Tucker: **I don't really have favorites of a lot of things; just kind of stuff I like and stuff I don't like

**Stan Marsh: **haha..

**Stan Marsh: **okay, um

**Stan Marsh: **Meet in ten-fifteen minutes?

**Stan Marsh: **I'm doing something

**Stan Marsh: **so I guess I'll meet you at the rock or something

**Craig Tucker: **You mean you're not going to come pick me up, how rude

**Craig Tucker: **But I'll be there

**Stan Marsh: **did you want me to?

**Craig Tucker: **No, I was kidding, I'll be there

* * *

After about thirty minutes, Stan finally pulled up to the rock and parked off the side of the road. He had on a hoodie, jeans and his boots, but the laces were untied in his rushing out of the house. Putting his iPod into his hoodie pocket, he then grabbed a small box and shoved it in his pocket as well, along with his headphones. Reaching over on the other side of the seat, he pulled the reusable grocery bag off the passenger's side - it was certainly full of something. Then, he grabbed his acoustic guitar with his free hand, and pushed his way out of the truck.

Stepping out, he looked over at the rock, spying Craig a ways off. He walked out to climb up slightly, finding a flat edge of the rock where they could more easily sit. Laying down his black acoustic guitar gently on the rock, he set down the bag next to it and pulled out a green plaid blanket, and waved it out onto the rocks, and then he sat down on it. He hadn't acknowledged Craig yet, simply because he wanted the other to notice him first.

**After a while of just sitting on the rock, Craig considers just calling Stan to see if he's going to be late, but decides against it. He lets himself fall onto his back with a less than repressed sigh. He's had a long day, and he really doesn't know what to do with himself. He tilts his head back against the rock, and he sees an upside down Stan. …oh…**

"**Hey," he says, like he didn't just notice Stan there. After a second of staring at upside down Stan, he sits up and turns around to face him. What's in the bag..? And is that a **_**guitar**_**. What the Hell is Stan doing? And why didn't Stan say anything when he arrived? Craig feels his stomach clench a bit, but he doesn't actually ask any of these questions. **

**He stands though, and makes his way over to Stan's blanket to sit back down. He can't help but think about what Token had said, and he wonders if Stan **_**actually**_** brought candles, because Craig might die if that happens. That would be way too many awkward firsts in one day.**

Stan had a small smile on his lips as Craig said hey, and then he replied with, "Hey. Umn..." He reached over in the bag again, and pulled out two Dr. Pepper's, and set them in the center of the blanket. Then he reached in again and pulled out a white box.

Really, he hadn't brought anything special, just something to eat. Which took him about twenty five minutes to make, because he started when he had been talking to Craig, and it was difficult to play it off as he wasn't doing anything because he was a damn awful liar. Opening up the white box, inside was a paper plate with mini-taco bites, topped with salsa and sour cream.

"I made these, since...yeah. They'll probably get cold if we don't eat them now, but it doesn't matter, I just didn't want to be out here with nothing to eat." He really was trying to play down the romance, he didn't want to freak Craig out into having an aneurysm or something from being romanced too much.

**Craig takes the can of pop and sets it next to himself, not bothering to open it yet since he's not thirsty. He just kind of stares when Stan pulls out the box of food, because he didn't even know Stan knew how to cook. Well, that one morning he made those crepes, but that would have just been one thing.**

**He takes one of the taco bites and starts to eat it, with a "Thanks." He doesn't really know what else to say, because no one has ever taken him out to a rock to stargaze and make him dinner and stuff.**

Stan stared at Craig, and couldn't help his lips curling into an awkward smile. It was sort of hilarious that he was so quiet. Really, Stan knew he shouldn't enjoy Craig's discomfort, but it was just so...adorable. Leaving the white box in the middle of the blanket along with the soda that was left, he reached inside his pocket and pulled out the box.

"And I sort of bought this for you when I was looking on amazon for guinea pig toys." He said as he opened the box, and then tore off the little ornament. It was a silver middle finger zipper pull. [ecx(.)images-amazon(.)com/images/I/81JfjJ7VN5L._SL1500_(.)jpg ] Leaning over he grabbed onto Craig's hoodie, and then snapped the zipper pull on and sat back down on his knees.

"Yeah. Looks good on you. Don't think gifts were mandatory, I just...I don't know, it's why I suck at saving, I buy crap like that when I see it.." Usually Wendy was the target of his meaningless shopping - Craig was going to have to get used to it. Either that or yell at him for not watching what he spent.

**Craig still doesn't know what to say, and if possible it's getting even worse. Like the fact that Stan is doing these things isn't bad, not at all, but the fact that it's toward **_**Craig**_** makes Craig feel weird. Stan is already buying him things, and he doesn't even think they've been official a whole week yet. Either Stan **_** really**_** likes him or he's got a serious money management problem. Or both.**

**He fingers the zipper pull and looks down at it. That's like the male equivalent of buying a necklace, what the Hell… he likes it though, so he looks back up at Stan and tries for a smile. "Thanks," he says again.**

"Uh...and there's chocolate oreo mousse, one minute," Stan reached in the bag again, and pulled out two tiny containers with plastic wrap over the top to keep the oreo crumbles from falling off the mousse. "I made it really fast, so it probably sucks...I should have probably asked you earlier today and actually spent time on it, but, I don't know." He put them out on the blanket, and then looked at Craig, the nervousness etched into his expression as he averted his eyes to the guitar.

"Um...and I was going to, uh... you know, play you something. Not sing, just play something short. And then that's it, I swear."

**Craig sighs as Stan speaks, feeling kind of like shit that Stan put so much effort into all of this and he's just sitting there. "You can sing if you want," he starts, looking over at the guitar instead of Stan. "I, um, I really appreciate all this, really, it's just like I said, no one has ever taken me on a date and I feel kind of stupid just sitting here, so I don't really know what to say. It's great though, really, just different," he tries to explain. In all honesty, he sort of feels the most awkward about it because in this situation, Craig is the one on the receiving end, and it makes him feel like a girl somehow. It's not something that should matter, but Craig has never been in this situation, so it's really uncomfortable.**

**Trying to cover up his awkward speech, he leans across the blanket and gives Stan a kiss, bringing one of his hands up to touch his fingertips to the bottom of Stan's chin. He pulls back a little after a second and looks Stan in the eye for probably the first time since they got there and says, "Just play your song so I can stop sounding like an idiot," he says, before sitting back in his spot.**

Stan's eyes had moved back to Craig when the other started talking about how stupid he felt. Really, Stan only felt awkward when he did nothing at all on dates - it made him feel like he was doing it wrong. He usually put so much effort into everything romantic - maybe he had watched too many movies, who knew. But when Craig moved in to give him a kiss, he smiled slightly and then shrugged, "I really don't care if you don't do anything...uh, just sit."

He leaned over and grabbed the neck of his guitar, and then reached up and pulled back his hoodie. Then he pulled off a necklace - or what seemed like one, but really it was a long chain with a guitar pick attached at the bottom of it. Taking it off of his neck, he brought it up to the guitar and started strumming a melody - it was extremely short, no longer then thirty seconds. He was pretty sure if Craig liked Resident Evil, he would remember the save room theme. While he was cooking, he had learned it. It was pretty simple, but pleasant to hear. [www(.)youtube(.)com/watch?v=W9NQA0Jb3gk ]

**Craig just sits back when told to sit and eats another taco bite as Stan plays. After a second, he recognizes the tune and has to stop himself from visibly choking on his food. Stan actually **_**learned**_** that so he could come here and play it. This kind of thing might just be something that Craig has to get used to because it doesn't even seem like Stan is phased by the amount of shit he's doing for Craig.**

…**there's no way Craig is telling Token about this.**

The sun had sunken behind the trees, and Stan noticed the stars creeping out in the darkened sky. With a slight glance as he looked up from the guitar, he started to put it back down, but then stopped.

"So...like, are there other themes you like? I know a few but not a lot. Umn...a lot of the classics. I don't know. Dr. Mario, Castlevania, Tetris, Zelda...well, I really brought it because you said you wanted to hear me play guitar, I'm not like serenading you or something."

"**Actually, I like all those games," Craig says, staring down at the guitar. He'd been watching Stan's fingers, and it was interesting to watch them move. Craig can't play any instruments, so it's surprising to see someone else play so easily. He's not even sure if Stan was looking at the strings because Craig didn't even look up. How the Hell do you keep track of which fret you're touching? Or which string your plucking? He wants to watch Stan play more, but he also notices that it's getting dark and he wants to lay down. He decides to let Stan pick because he doesn't know which he wants more.**

"Uh...I'll play one more, and then put it away. I mean, I can play in the dark, but I don't want to make you bored," Stan said as he started plucking at the strings again, his hands moving slow at first and then faster. It was the Tetris theme, specifically the A Theme. [www(.)youtube(.)com/watch?v=SYJ4ijbvpEI ] It was a bit longer, he played for about a minute and a half, then stopped. "Okay, I'm done," He said as he put his guitar down, wondering what Craig was thinking. He put the chain that had the guitar pick on it back around his neck. Glancing up at Craig, he offered him a small smile, and then said, "...you're not freaked out are you?"

**Craig watches as Stan plays, a weird fascination forming with how quickly Stan's fingers flow along the notes. When Stan stops, he has to think for a second to realize that he'd been staring. "No, I'm not freaked out," he says, looking back up to Stan's face. "I liked watching you play," he says, deciding there'd be no point in lying about it, or even that he wants to lie about it. It was pretty cool.**

"**If you're done then come here cause I want to lay down," he says, returning Stan's tiny smile. He holds out a hand on impulse, so that he can bring Stan over next to himself to lay down.**

Stan reached over and moved the taco box out of the way, but grabbed his Dr. Pepper as he scooted over to Craig and held his hand as he moved to lay down. Resting his head on the other's chest, he held up the Dr. Pepper and popped the lid, and then tried drinking it while laying down. "Goddamnit," He said as he spilled the soda, and then put it down next to him. Obviously, he should have expected to pour it on his face if he tried drinking laying down, but he didn't feel like getting back up. He returned his hand back to Craig's, interlinking their fingers together as he smiled.

**Craig stifles a laugh when Stan spills the pop on himself, because really, he just did all that shit like make food and played the guitar, which requires deft fingers, and he just spilled pop on himself. Way to be contradictory, Stan.**

**He wraps his free arm around Stan's back as he snuggles against Craig's chest. Craig doesn't even think Stan can see any stars from that angle, and he's opting to think that it's because Stan likes him more. He hopes Stan is having a good time, because Stan had a really shitty day and that's really the only reason Craig braved the inevitable awkwardness of this night. Though, it wasn't actually that bad. Isn't bad. Especially not with Stan's head on his chest and Stan's hand in his.**

He closed his eyes, completely defeating the point of stargazing as he snuggled up to Craig. For a moment, all he could think of was the sound of crickets starting to chirp, and the sound of Craig's heartbeat. It was actually soothing, mostly because he had been scared a few days before that someone might stop it from beating - so by hearing it, he was sure he had protected Craig successfully because he was still alive. And that made him extremely happy.

"Sorry if I went overboard," Stan said quietly, opening his eyes to look at Craig, but at their angle he had to arch his neck slightly just to see the other's face. "But you're screwed if you think that's the end of that. Just so you know."

**He looks down at Stan with a grin and says, "When **_**don't**_** you go overboard?" he asks. He doesn't even let it go half a second before he realizes that sounded bad, so he adds, "I mean you put yourself in everything you do, and I like it. You don't ever half-ass anything."**

**Hoping that saved his comment, because that's what he actually meant the second time, he brings his hand up from around Stan and starts running it though Stan's hair. "So I'm screwed, huh? Exactly how screwed am I?" he asks. He thinks back to the other night when Stan was talking about kids and other awkward stuff. Does Stan actually see them being together that long?**

"Hmmnn..." Stan raised an eyebrow as he stared at the other, his eyes narrowing slightly. It was sort of strange how a week or two ago, a comment like 'when don't you go overboard', he would have taken as an insult - now it seemed almost endearing, especially when Craig followed it by explaining himself. Moving to pull himself up, he scooted upwards and then freed his hand from Craig's, and put it on the side of his face and pressed their lips together. His hand dwindled for awhile where it was, and then started moving upwards to comb through Craig's hair.

**Craig is pleased when Stan moves up to kiss him. He lets his arms wind around Stan as Stan touches his face, and then his hair. Craig realizes just how 'screwed' he is at Stan's touch. Craig really, really, really likes this. Really likes Stan. He might even…**

**He breaks their kiss to stare up at Stan. He just stares, not really wanting to say anything, but just wanting to look at Stan. He gnaws at the inside of his cheek, trying to figure out his own thoughts.**

He pressed his fingertips against Craig's skull as he laced his fingers through the other's hair. With his thumb against the other's temple, he was a little shocked to feel him pull away, and then he stared back at him as Craig gazed. What was he thinking? ...Oh no. Seriously? Stan's eyes narrowed suspiciously. No, Craig did not want a blow job after Stan put all that effort into just wanting a romantic evening, what the hell. Okay, Stan wasn't that pissed Craig was giving him the blow job stare, but he did think the timing was a bit off.

"...god, just say it. If you want it, just say so."

**Craig is a little surprised to hear Stan say anything having been caught up in his own thoughts. Just say it..? How does Stan know what he's thinking? And why does he sound just a little peeved?**

"**Um… I don't know what you're talking about. I just wanted to look at you…" he says, it being about half true. He enjoys looking at Stan; just observing the shit he does. Okay, that sounds creepy, but it's true. And he's kind of making an important decision; if Stan knows, he should be trying to rush him.**

"Yeah, sure. Sure, you _**just**_ wanted to look at me." Stan said sarcastically, still staring at Craig. The only reason Craig liked looking at him was because he could get results, and Stan was becoming a bit irate with this sudden innocence Craig was faking. For a moment, he ran his front teeth on his bottom lip, trying to decide if he was actually in the mood for that. Actually, he really did just want to hug Craig, it had been a long few days.

Running his hand down Craig's neck, and then down his hoodie - he slowly put it at the top of Craig's pants and started undoing his button.

"Are you going to watch me do this too?"

"**What?" Craig asked, confused when Stan starts to undo his pants. He reaches a hand down to stop Stan, wrapping his fingers around Stan's to keep his hand from moving. "What are you doing; I was honestly just looking at you," he says, looking up from their hands back to Stan's face. He can't believe he just stopped Stan; any other time he would just let Stan do whatever he wanted, but right now that's not what Craig wants. "I was just thinking, that's all," he says, leaning up a bit so that the ends of their noses touch. "I can't just look at you?"**

"What." Stan muttered, looking at Craig again as the other stopped his hand from moving. With a frown, he narrowed his eyes again as he continued to gaze at Craig. What the hell was this? Was he trying to confuse him?

"...What do you mean, you don't want a blow job? Isn't that why you're staring at me like that?"

"**No, Stan; believe it or not, sex isn't the only thing I think about," he says, a little annoyed that he can't even look at his boyfriend without him thinking it was because he wanted something out of him. Is Craig really that bad? He sighs and lays his head back where it was not ten seconds ago, looking away from Stan and over toward the street, even if he can't see the street from their spot on the rock. He's a bit frustrated that his thoughts had been interrupted. This was a good night, too.**

"Huh?" Stan was genuinely confused, wondering why Craig stopped him. At first, he thought maybe his overly affectionate romancing had suddenly made Craig not like him. Did he do something to turn him off? ...was it possible romancing could turn someone off? With a worried look forming on his face he tried to look at Craig's eyes, even though the other had turned his gaze on the street - which Stan could barely see over the rocks.

"...what did I do wrong?" He asked quietly, wondering what part of the night he screwed up.

**He keeps looking toward the street instead of at Stan, like he probably should. For whatever reason, he just can't right now. "No, you didn't do anything wrong. You did it… right," he says, thinking the words sound dumb even as he thinks them, but he says them anyway. Honestly Craig is just a little overwhelmed and he doesn't want to talk about it anymore. He knows Stan is going to ask though, and he's not going to refuse him. He just wants Stan to kiss him again, so he can stop thinking and he won't have to talk. And so he can kiss him.**

"...well then why are you trying to look at the street." Stan pouted slightly, pulling his hand out of Craig's and then moving back to sit on his knees. The tacos were probably cold by now, and he had nearly knocked over his soda - the mousse, he was sure that would probably be a bit melted. Looking at his hands, which were limply lying on his thighs, he sighed and then scooted backwards, so he could grab a mini taco. He picked up his soda and sipped it with his other hand.

"**Hey, come back," Craig says, sitting up and looking over at Stan when he moves away. Why the Hell did Stan leave? He actually spots a frown as a result of his own confusion mixed with Stan completely backing off. Just because Craig doesn't want a fucking blow job doesn't mean he doesn't want to be close. "You seriously didn't do anything wrong; all I wanted was to look at your damn face." All he was doing was thinking about how much he likes Stan; why the fuck did that create a problem. Then again, the last time he said something about how he'd been feeling – yesterday – Stan had just gotten awkward.**

Biting into the mini taco as Craig spoke, he looked over at him with a sideways glance, wondering why he was calling him back. He had figured he wanted space because he wouldn't look at him. With his brows furrowed together and his body tensing, he said, "Seriously," with his mouth full, and then swallowed after chewing so he could speak properly. "Yeah, okay, well..I don't know what the hell you're thinking ever, I just assumed you wanted me to do something. God."

Why was Craig more confusing than a girl? It was infuriating.

He sipped his soda irately, his mouth pursed after as he looked at the mini taco. Really, this was the first time he had eaten anything all day - probably because he felt safe to do so around Craig. But he wasn't about to tell Craig that.

"I'll just finish this and we can go back to lying down and actually looking at the stars," He said crossly, shoving the taco in his mouth and chewing.

**Why is Stan being a dick about this? Could he really not tell what Craig had been thinking? In context, Craig figures it should have been pretty obvious, but whatever. Stan obviously doesn't want to talk about it, so Craig won't talk about it.**

**Without saying anything, he lays back down and curls a bit onto his side, facing away from Stan. He doesn't want Stan to see how pissed off he's getting about this, so he'll just stay where he is and let Stan eat. Nothing was wrong, why did they start fighting? This is a bad kind of fighting, it's not even the fun kind. Why is this happening?**

Sipping his soda, he looked back over at Craig. Why was he in the fetal position? Ugh, obviously Stan had upset him - maybe he was just saying it was right to make Stan feel better about scaring him. With another loud, distinct sigh, Stan moved back over to Craig and draped an arm over him, and hugged him extremely tight as he said, "I'm sorry...I can't read your expressions at all. So I'm just going to hug the hell out of you until you feel better, okay." He tried considering, now that he was hugging Craig tightly, what the other could have been thinking that he got so upset about - and even stopped Stan from doing anything sexual. Whatever it was, he figured, he really didn't want to leave Craig in the middle of it alone, curled up, without any contact at all. He wanted to be here with Craig. At home he felt unsafe and somehow, Craig made things feel safer.

**Craig doesn't say anything for what feels like minutes. He doesn't want to leave Stan without an explanation, but he really doesn't want to explain himself. With a conceding sigh, he decides to just out with it. "I was thinking that maybe I might say I love you back," he says, quiet, but only really because the air is quiet and not because he's hoping Stan won't hear it. He knows Stan will hear it, and it makes his stomach drop a little. He hopes that Stan takes the 'might' and 'maybe' a little heavier than the rest of it because he's still not sure. …though he's a lot more sure than he had been previously.**

**He'd just gotten to thinking about how much Stan actually thinks about him and how much time they spend together and how upset he'd be if he lost Stan. Even when they hated each other, he would have been upset at the loss of his favorite rival. It might not be love, but it's sure as Hell strong.**

His eyes widened as he listened to Craig's explanation. The feeling of being a complete jackass settled in as he realized what had been a loving gaze, Stan really had interpreted as indicating something sexual. With a frown, he hugged Craig even tighter, if it was possible. Finally he let go of Craig and moved to sit at the top of the other's head, just on the very edge of the blanket, so he could brush the hair out of his face and lean over him as he sat.

"I'm sorry," He said gently, tracing his fingers softly across the other's forehead, trying to comfort him.

**After a minute, Craig sighs and reaches his arms out to hug around Stan's waits, pulling himself closer and landing his head in Stan's lap. He closes his eyes and just lays there for another moment, just enjoying holding on to Stan. "It's just my face, you couldn't know," he says. It's true, no one could ever tell, even if they're close. It's kind of a good thing, but also a bad thing. If Stan can't even tell what Craig is thinking how will Craig ever be able to communicate properly? Not that he communicates very well in the first place.**

He pulled both hands up to run through Craig's hair, giving him some sort of head massage as the other laid there. Instead of saying anything, he was hoping that his actions showed he really wanted Craig to say what he said he 'maybe might' say. When the other expressed his dismay at his stoicism, he smiled slightly, staring at Craig's closed eyes.

"Guess I'll have to be a mind reader then. I'll work on it."

**Craig tries not to let that be funny, because it really isn't, but he cracks a little smile anyway. He lets go of Stan to turn onto his back instead of his stomach and then reaches back up to wrap is arms around Stan's middle again. He looks up at Stan, upside down again. He bites his lip to keep himself from speaking. He feels like he should say it, even if it's a heat-of-the-moment decision. He still doesn't want to say it, though. Maybe if Stan says it first, Craig might say it back, but right now he's just going to keep looking at Stan.**

Moving his hands away so Craig could move successfully, he slowly put them back to play with the other's hair as he stared at Craig. With a moment's pause, he locked eyes with Craig and then stared at the other as he looked back at him. What was he waiting for? He couldn't really tell - maybe he wanted him to say something like 'I love you'. Narrowing his eyes slightly as he studied Craig's face upside down, he opened his mouth to say it, but he blurted out instead, "You're really cute...oh." He averted his eyes to the side, frowning. That wasn't what he wanted to say, and it was actually somehow more embarrassing then the three magic words.

"I mean, I love you."

"**You mean you can tell me I'm cute but I can't tell you you're cute? How's that fair?" he asks with a light chuckle. He tightens his arms around Stan's back, trying to bring himself further into Stan's lap. He nudges Stan's stomach with his head and says, "Hey, look at me."**

"What?" Stan looked at Craig, furrowing his brow and pursing his lips together as he did so. Yeah, it was definitely a double-standard that he could say Craig was cute and the other couldn't. But he hadn't intended to say it at all...it was just the damn setting that was getting to him. Damn stars and damn rock with a damn comfy blanket on it, with the dim light hitting Craig just right so his eyes were positively captivating. Was it just him, or did the shadows make Craig hotter?

**Once Stan looks at him, he hesitates a second to prepare himself so he knows he won't stop half way through and just end up sounding like some kind of idiot. When he gathers his own bearings, he looks Stan in the eye, his heart beating hard in his chest, he says, "I love you too, Stan."**

**An incredible weight lifts off his shoulders, and another one slams back down, but he tries to ignore it. He'd just told someone he loves them; that's a lot of responsibility. But somehow… Craig thinks it'll be okay. And all he really wants right now is for Stan to lean down and kiss him because that's what should happen when you say you love someone.**

Stan's heart raced slightly as he heard Craig say the three words he really didn't expect him to say for at least ten years. His first instinct was to check Craig's forehead with the back of his hand to see if he had a fever, but he kept himself from moving for a moment to ponder this situation over. His second instinct, possibly the strongest one, was to react positively. So he slowly put his hands underneath Craig's head, and moved his way out from underneath Craig so Craig would no longer have a pillow. Next, he stood up and walked around Craig, and then straddled the other with a leg on either side. Maintaining eye contact for a moment as he stayed on top of Craig, intensely gazing at him, he bowed down and pressed his lips against the other's in a passionate kiss, placing his hands on either side of Craig's head and lacing his fingers through his dark hair.

**Craig watches Stan move, not saying anything in protest because he hopes he knows what's coming. When Stan kisses him, he can feel how much Stan appreciates what he'd said in the intensity of the kiss. He presses back with just as much vigor. He wraps his arms tight around Stan's waist and gives it a few seconds before he rolls them over. He really wants to show Stan he means it somehow, but he has no idea how, and he really just wants to keep kissing him for another hour. Or six.**

**He rests a hand on either side of Stan's head as he continues to pour himself into their kiss. Maybe if he thinks about it hard enough, Stan will be able to feel what Craig feels through their connection. Or maybe he doesn't have to think about it at all and Stan already knows. He brings one of his hands up to cup the side of Stan's face, and strokes it slowly with his thumb. He tilts his own head a little to the side, to make their lips fit together better, and god, Craig just feels on top of the fucking world. He just said he loves someone.**

"Ughnn," Stan broke their connection for a moment to vocalize his irritation with being flipped - he hadn't seen it coming, as sad as that was, since he always was on bottom. Inevitably. He gave up on being irritated however when he pressed back into the kiss, pushing his tongue into Craig's mouth and moving his hands behind the other's head - locking his fingers together so he cradled the back of the other's neck. With his eyes closed, he concentrated only on the movement of his tongue.

**It doesn't even faze Craig at this point that Stan tries to dominate all their kisses. If nothing else, Craig will just give him that, because Craig's decided that he rather likes Stan's tongue in his mouth. And he's **_**definitely**_** not bad at it, so why complain? Why do fucking anything except let Stan tongue rape him? That's not to say Craig doesn't participate, no, he just lets the warring happen in his own mouth. It's all slick movements and warm muscle and avoided clashing teeth.**

**After a while, Craig pulls his mouth away, but not his whole head. He opens his eyes to look at Stan, his breathing heavy and short. How did this happen, again? How did he end up with Stan marsh under him, kissing like their lives depend on it, and loving the shit out of each other? However it happened, he's damn fucking glad it did, because right now he's so fucking happy.**

Sparring with Craig's tongue, he finally allows the other to pull away, his eyes opening as he gave Craig a distant look. His own breathing was slightly erratic, and his eyes were half-lidded as he observed Craig's face. Really, he was focusing on Craig's eyes - he was beginning to think he had some way of deciphering the other's emotions, simply by looking in his eyes. Somehow. Maybe he was fooling himself, but he liked to think he was sort of catching on reading Craig...or, really, his boyfriend. Somehow connecting Craig Tucker and boyfriend in the same sentence, when it was related to him, was still a hard concept to grasp. But it was amazing how it was getting easier to accept the inevitable - them.

"What?" He finally asked, even though he was pretty sure Craig was just 'observing' him again. It was impossible not to quit his sarcasm, newly renewed since Craig broke off their feverish kissing.

"You really should just take a picture if you're going to stare at me all the time. I've got a couple kodak moments you can have at home if you want."

He briefly wondered if Craig would get irritated with him - but the small devious grin forming on his lips now after he had delivered his comment was new; it symbolized an acknowledgment of wanting Craig to know he was being sarcastic in a pleasant, teasing way.

**Craig scoffs, smirking back down at Stan for the comment. "You know how many cameras I have, right? I've got a video camera, too…" he says, trailing off as he leans back down to kiss Stan again. He didn't really mean anything by the video camera comment, but Stan seems to take everything Craig says in a sexual way, so he's wondering what exactly Stan is thinking at this point. He wonders if Stan even knew he was into photography. It's been a while, though, since he's played with a camera. The last thing he shot was when he and Clyde made that weird cooking video a few weeks back.**

**Okay, thinking about Clyde right now it's the best idea, it'll just make Craig want to get off Stan. He pushes the thoughts from his mind as he leaves Stan's lips again, in favor of his neck. Stan still has several fading hickies, but Craig figures one fresh one won't hurt. He takes a piece of flesh between his lips and sucks at it lightly, teasing the skin to a distinct red color.**

Maybe Craig knew Stan a little too well; Stan was already thinking about what he meant by having a video camera. ...was he suggesting they should make a sex tape? Somehow, the idea hadn't ever occurred to Stan, because he figured no one wanted to see him having sex. For a moment, he looked a bit puzzled as he thought about it. When Craig moved to his neck and began sucking on it, he narrowed his eyes slightly as he moved his hands along the back of Craig's neck to the back of his head, pushing him slightly against him.

**Craig presses himself against Stan , feeling the pressure Stan was applying. After a second, though, he pulls himself back up to Stan's lips for another tender kiss, weaving a hand lightly into Stan's hair. When he pulls back, he asks, "So what do you want to do?"**

**It's not really demanding, but more genuine interest. Craig doesn't really know if he wants to top off his 'I love you, too' by breaking Stan against a rock, because that's not romantic **_**at all**_**, and they came out here to stargaze anyway, so he actually just wants to know what Stan wants. Also, Craig only ate two of those taco things and he's still kind of hungry. And he wants to eat the oreo desert too because that looked fucking delicious.**

Returning the kiss and letting up on pressuring Craig against him, Stan glanced at the other when he asked him what he wanted. Really, Stan didn't know how much fun he would be - he was so damn tired and hungry, but he didn't want to eat or sleep, so it created a vicious circle of lethargy.

"I sort of...want to eat," He said quietly, hoping Craig wasn't disappointed with his response. He looked at the other with a slight frown, and then admitted, "I know you said I'm safe but..I haven't really been eating. Or sleeping." To clarify he added, "And that taco thing I ate was like the first thing I've had all day."

**Craig sighs, for because the fact that Stan hasn't eaten than anything else, and sits back on his knees. He looks Down to Stan's face, having ended up sitting between his legs. "Stan, then **_**eat**_**," he says. He even going so far as to grab two of the taco bites and hold one out to Stan. He bites into the other one, hoping Stan knows he's not annoyed because they stopped, but because Stan is being stupid and not eating. Maybe they'll eat all this food, lay out for a little while longer, and then head back to one of their houses to get some sleep. Craig has a feeling Stan won't sleep unless he's there.**

"...uh.." Stan stared at the taco bite, having it be the second time in two days someone forced food on him. He was beginning to understand what Kenny felt like when he tried forcing him to eat five tacos. Pulling himself up to a sitting position, he looked at the taco bite in Craig's hand, and then took it and held it in his own. He probably wouldn't eat it. Picking up his can of soda that had been since abandoned, he hoped no bugs had flown in it as he took a sip. Maybe if he looked like he was actively doing something, like drinking the Dr. Pepper, Craig wouldn't notice.

"I actually got my dad to say yes to Kenny and Karen staying in my basement," He said as he sipped the soda again and then moved his legs to sit cross-legged from Craig.

"I don't know if I'm going to tell Kenny yet, though. ...it's weird."

**Craig is a bit taken aback by the abrupt change in subject. Why the fuck would Stan bring up Kenny after Craig just told him he loves him? And why did Stan say he was hungry if he's not going to eat?**

"**Um, that's cool, I guess," he says, finishing off his mini taco. He just chews it slowly, not really wanting to be eating anymore. In fact, he doesn't really want to be doing anything anymore. That was an extreme shift in moods just now, and Craig doesn't really like it. How exactly do two people go from 'I love you's and rolling around on top of each other to 'hey your ex that wants us both is allowed to live in my basement?'**

"**Why aren't you going to tell him?"**

"...because I don't know if I want him in the same house as me," Stan said quietly, looking at the taco as he sipped the Dr. Pepper and settled it down on the blanket next to him.

"Sorry, it's not the best subject to bring up right now...I just...I don't know. I'm not hungry, I'm going to just lay down, okay."

He put the taco back in the box, and then moved over so he could lay down on his back and stretch out his legs.

**Craig watches as Stan lays down, trying to understand why Stan is suddenly upset. Why would Stan even think about this stuff right now; aren't they supposed to be on a date? Maybe Stan just doesn't want to be there anymore.**

"**Do you want to just go home?" he asks, not letting himself frown at that. They had a good night so far, and if Stan just wants to go home then he can. It's not like he didn't put enough effort into this or something.**

"No, I want to stay with you," Stan stated as he laid back on the ground, his eyes focusing on the stars. There were a lot out, and since there weren't any lights around, it looked like there were millions of them flickering in the sky. "No, really...I'm just...sad. Ugh...I never tell you why either, that's probably a dick move, sorry."

He put his hands on his middle, staring upwards as he stayed quiet for a bit.

"It's just if Kenny breaks up with Kyle, I think my group is going to be so broken up..like, we don't even hang out that much anymore. Or haven't. I'm really happy with this, what we are. I love you, but it's just...I'm sad because things are changing and I'm thinking I probably won't have the same friends pretty soon, even though we've known each other for years. And I know you said he'll get over it but I don't think he will. I don't think I'll even get over it. But I love you. I really, really love you. And I'm not eating because it freaked me out Damien wanted to eat my liver, and I haven't really eaten since that comment, so it's not you, I swear to god. I'm just really messed up right now...goddamnit, I just want to lay here and just stare at the stars, okay. I just want you here next to me."

**Craig lays down next to Stan when he finishes his rant and looks over at him. He doesn't really know how to tell Stan that this is something he might just have to deal with. People break up, relationships get ruined, shit happens. It sucks, but Craig will still be there, so hopefully he can make Stan feel better about it in the end. Maybe he can just talk about Clyde and Token, since they're bound to be friends with Stan soon. Maybe it won't be so bad for Stan.**

"**You're right, things are changing. But it might not be that bad. I mean you can hang out with me and Token and Clyde. Token wants to hang out with us anyway, and I'm not sure if Clyde even knows yet. Don't tell Clyde you make tacos; I don't want him humping your leg or something, he gets excited. …I don't know about Kenny, but Kyle is your best friend, right? I'm sure he'll come around eventually; after all, you didn't do anything to him. So you can just be one of the bros until he gets over it. …or even after he gets over it. And this Damien thing will pass, I promise. Just don't talk to him and he'll forget about you. You don't have to stop eating just because he made a passing comment about your liver. Your liver isn't going to be consumed by anyone."**

**He pauses in his own rant to lean over and plant a dry kiss to Stan's cheek. He looks him in the eyes, trying to be sincere. "I love you too Stan, but sometimes you can't fix everything. Sometimes you just have to roll with it until it fixes itself and try to enjoy the other things until it passes."**

Appearing extremely detached from Craig's rant, Stan tried focusing his attention on the other without looking directly at him. He kept his eyes on the stars instead. What Craig said was extremely sensible, and he was actually amazed to hear Craig talk that much - but he was kind of soothed by his voice, so he didn't find it displeasing, but quite the opposite. With a straight-faced expression, he tried thinking of how he and Clyde already hung out - it just wasn't the same as hanging out with Kyle and Kenny, but he wasn't going to tell Craig that. He was pretty sure Clyde would hump his leg if he knew he made tacos, that was for sure. But it felt sort of relieving to hear Craig offer him new friends, and he decided to go with it, and didn't say anything.

When he said Damien wasn't going to eat his liver, he looked a little disturbed as he narrowed his eyes, trying not to think of it. Craig and Kenny kept saying that...but seriously, did they not know how creepy Damien was, or how irritating of a drunk Stan was? They must have known, but maybe they didn't realize how much Stan thought he pissed off the antichrist. When Craig leaned in for a kiss, his eyes moved to stare at the other, and he reached over to grab Craig's hoodie in the center of his chest - pulling on it slightly.

"Lay next to me," He insisted, and then paused as he said, "...yeah, I know. I can't fix everything. I really need to learn that, but lay next to me. I'm cold."

**Craig doesn't object to Stan pulling him closer. He considers even going so far as to give Stan his hoodie, because Craig doesn't mind the cold, really, but he has a feeling Stan would just refuse it and Say Craig needs it or something. He just sidles his body right up next to Stan's and lays back on his back, pressing their sides together.**

**He doesn't really know how he feels about his thought out words being answered with 'I know' but maybe Stan just doesn't want to talk about it anymore. So Craig doesn't say anything more. Though somehow he doesn't like this position they're laying in. He likes it better when Stan is in his arms or on his chest. But they're looking at stars, so they should be on their backs, right? He looks up at them and notices how many there are. It's quiet out on this rock.**

Stan was strangely quiet for a few minutes, and then reached over and pulled Craig's arm out, and tucked it under his head so he had a pillow. Really, he wanted to stare upwards, but at the same time be as close as possible to Craig.

The silence fell again as he let the crickets dominate the conversation, or lack thereof, and it became startling quiet. Soon he pointed upwards with his hand furthest from Craig, and pointed at the sky.

"Look right there, _dude_. It's a guinea pig. Like, there's the head, and the eye, and then the butt." He paused for a minute, and then said quietly, "...maybe that's scorpio or something. ...still looks like a guinea pig to me, though. Fuck the books."

**Craig likes it better once Stan is laying on his arm. He curls it in a bit, resting his forearm on Stan's shoulder in a sort of hug. Craig looks around when Stan starts pointing, trying to figure out where he meant. "Uhh…" he says, not seeing it. Then he sees something that vaguely might resemble a guinea pig if drawn by a three year old. "Oh yeah, I see it," he says, hoping he was even seeing that same thing as Stan.**

Squinting his eyes as he stared at the sky, he wondered if Craig really did see it, or if he was just confused as to what Stan was staring at. Oh well, it didn't matter. With sigh, he put his arm down in a way that he could hold Craig's forearm now that it was nestled snug on his shoulder.

"I really like the stars," He commented, and then paused for a minute before he said, "The reason I sleep on the side near the window is I watch them before I fall asleep." It wasn't something he told anyone, really - just one of those really personal habits that he felt was sort of secret.

"Sometimes I go out at night and listen to certain songs when I look at the stars and walk."

**Craig doesn't really get why Stan is telling him at first, but then he realizes that Stan is just sharing something personal. Maybe Craig should say something, too.**

"**Um, I don't do anything without making sure it's okay with Stripe first. He actually knew I liked you before I did," he says. There's actually no way Craig would have gone anywhere near Stan if Stripe didn't like him. And he doesn't think it might sound weird until after he says it. Who the fuck talks to their guinea pig? "I mean…" he starts, but just trails off, not wanting it to sound even more strange with an unnecessary explanation.**

"...huh." Stan fell rather silent after Craig stated he needed Stripe's permission for things, and his eyes narrowed as he felt his lips turn upwards. Of course, Craig couldn't tell he was smiling, and soon the smile turned into a grin as he tried to suppress how freaking cute that sounded. So Craig Tucker was guided by a guinea pig's decisions, huh? Stan felt his heart skip a beat as he tried to keep from speaking for awhile, because he was sure if he did speak, it would come out in some sort of girlish 'awwwww'.

Finally collecting himself, he said, "...that is so fucking adorable. I want to hug you forever just for saying that." Truthfully, Stan thought no one else understood his like for animals - he at times found they were better company than people were, and loved his pets dearly. He loved everything creature-like.

"Oh my god, it's been like four minutes and that's still fucking adorable. I think I'm going to seizure from cuteness overload or something gay like that."

**Craig can't really tell if Stan is being serious or if Stan is making fun of him, but either way, Craig's never been one to be called 'adorable.'**

"**Why is it that I can't call you cute, but you can tell me things like you're going to die from cuteness seizure. It's not even cute, it's just sad," he says. It's true, though. It's pathetic that Craig won't do something if Stripe reacts badly to it. Craig should know better to think for himself. He doesn't know what he'll do when Stripe – okay, not going there. Stripe is okay.**

**Despite his discomfort with his own awkward confession, he weaves his fingers together with Stan's, connecting their hands near Stan's shoulder. He keeps staring up at the stars.**

"It's not sad, I have that connection with my dog," Stan commented idly, and then finally decided to comment on his double-standard for cute calling. "Uh...fine, you can call me cute, I don't care. But that is adorable. Like..when I first saw you with Stripe, it was the goddamn cutest thing I've ever seen. There was this asshole, being super loving with this little furry adorable guinea pig. Like, oh my god." His oh my god was very sarcastic, but the former sounded extremely serious.

"No lie. I've never met anyone who likes animals as much as me. That's just awesome."

"**You're a dick," Craig says, trying and failing to hide the humor in his voice. Wasn't the first time Stan saw him with Stripe while they were fighting once? So Stan even thinks about stuff like that while they're fighting, huh? **_**That's**_** what's cute about this. "But I'm glad I have your permission now, cause you're cute a lot," he says, turning his head to look over at Stan. Their heads are a lot closer than he expected, so he almost ends up nose to ear with Stan, but he manages to avoid that.**

"Really...this is the most disturbing conversation we've ever had," Stan commented idly, his voice extremely monotone as he gave Craig's hand a squeeze, and kept his eyes on the stars. He hadn't seen any meteors yet, and it was kind of disappointing him. He really wanted to make a wish.

"Probably should have come on the 5th, but I think we were in the locker rooms then, weren't we? Kind of weird to think there was a meteor shower really strong on the nights we couldn't see the sky...like that was going on and we were trapped in somewhere, wondering if we were going to die." He narrowed his eyes, thinking he saw a blink in the sky - but it turned out to be a plane. Oh well, damn. "Like, this meteor shower is some yearly event, and supposed to be really special... and I think what happened this month was really more special. Between us. Like now, where we are."

**Craig turns his head back up to the sky when Stan starts talking. How was that conversation disturbing? He bites back a chuckle though when Stan reaches the end of his small rant. "Yeah, I think we're really more special than the meteors are, too," he says, using Stan's special word choice.**

**After a minute, he lifts a hand. "There," he says, pointing to the left a bit. There was a small streak of light moving across the night sky. Craig doesn't think he's ever actually seen a meteor before. He's never really taken the time to stare at something like the stars, so this is quite possibly his first one he's ever seen.**

"Oh. I guess make a wish," Stan said really passively, but actually, in his head he was making a wish actively. Really, he wished that he could make everyone happy. With a smile, he then wished he would be with Craig a long time. He didn't know if it was disqualified because there were two wishes and one meteor, but he didn't care.

"So what did you wish for?" He said after a minute, and then looked over at Craig - angling his neck so their faces were incredibly close.

**Craig watches it pass in silence. "Um," he says, not wanting to admit out loud what he'd been thinking. He looks over at Stan, sensing how close his face was. "I… didn't," he says. After a second he continues with, "I, um, wanted yours to count."**

"...what?" Stan looked at Craig, studying his face for a minute. Was that how it worked? Who knew. He always thought it was just one per person, or maybe however many you could get in as it went across the sky...but what Craig said was astonishingly sweet, so he smiled and planted a kiss on the other's lips by moving himself a little, and then snuggled down in the nook of Craig's arm again, their hands still clasped.

**Craig smiles a little after Stan kisses him, because Craig thought what he'd said was stupid, so he was glad to know at least Stan enjoyed it. After Stan re-settles, he asks, "So what did you wish for?" He rubs his thumb along Stan's hand, looking back up to the sky instead of at Stan. Maybe they'd see another one before they decided to leave. It was kind of cool.**

"Uh, something dumb. Just that I'd make people happy." He didn't tell him about his wish involving him; maybe if he invalidated the first one by telling him, then the next one would come true. Oh well, superstitions were stupid, so whatever. But it was still a nice thought...

"It's kind of dumb because I don't think I make a lot of people happy. I probably make a lot more miserable...and I don't think a meteor is going to change that, but whatever, right. Can't hurt." He sighed lightly, and then muttered, "There's more blankets in the truck...but we probably shouldn't sleep out here by the road."

"**Well hey, you make me happy, so that's a start," Craig says. He'd said it without really thinking, and just kind of stops for a few seconds. "Uh, if you want to go home, we can. You're cold anyway and I kind of want to fall asleep like this."**

"Well...we could fall asleep together, just...at our houses." He didn't want to say 'because Damien might be lurking', because he was worried Craig might tell him 'fuck Damien, let's sleep here' or something. Rolling on his side, he pulled himself up so he was just leaning over Craig, their faces inches apart. He gazed at him for a moment quite lovingly, and then put his head on Craig's chest, collapsing on the other with his arms sprawled out as he went, "Errrrrrrrrrrrrrghhn. I'm so goddamn tired. I don't wanna move...let's just both be happy here and say fuck everyone else."

**Craig wraps his arms around Stan when Stan collapses on his chest. "We can do whatever you want," he says, because it's true. Craig pretty much does everything Stan asks anyway, and all Craig really cares about is that he gets to sleep with Stan tonight. He doesn't care where they sleep, as long as they do.**

"Okay, then let me go get the damn blankets, and lock the cars...one minute." He got up a bit slowly off of Craig, and then walked out towards the street and popped the door. Hitting the lock button, he grabbed the blankets off his back seat and then shut the door. He walked back up to the rock and put down the blankets in a pile, and glanced at the forgotten mousse. Picking up his cup, he reached in the bag for the spoons and then pulled off the top of Craig's mousse and shoved it in, and then started eating from his own cup. There was no way in hell he would let good mousse go bad.

"Umn, let's just finish this stuff. I kind of feel like eating now." He said with a mouthful of chocolate, and then sat down next to the cold food.

"Maybe we could like...eat together for the next week, it'd make me feel better."

**Craig sits up once Stan returns, and picks up his freshly spooned mousse. "Of course we can fucking eat together; we do everything else together," he says. He looks over at Stan, eating his own dessert, and adds, "Besides, I like doing things with you."**

**He takes a bite of the mousse, and even if it's been sitting out, it's really good. And Stan put goddamned oreos in it because Craig said he likes oreos. Stan should just make all of Craig's food forever because Craig normally just eats if his mom cooks, and then easy stuff like frozen food or pancakes.**

"Is it good? I took like ten minutes on this," He stared at his mousse, half eaten. As if he were judging it, he said, "I think I didn't do it right, but oh well. I mean, there's only so many ways you can make mousse, and I was doing stuff with the stove at the same time, so it was hard to concentrate on it...and the oreos are kind of stale because we don't use them besides for cooking. Well, I eat them sometimes but I don't tell my dad about that." He muttered the last part, and finished off his mousse after a minute.

Tossing the cup and spoon in the bag, he reached down and picked up a mini taco. He looked in the box, and his brow furrowed as he reached in and poked something. A tiny grasshopper jumped out of the box onto the blanket, and Stan reached out and poked its hind legs again, making it jump onto the rock.

"Uh, I don't think that touched the food...does it bother you?" He bit into the taco, looking at Craig.

"**Stan, stop, the food is fucking delicious, and that grasshopper was just trying to get in on the action," he says, finishing off his mousse. He'd already had several of the taco bites, and he's not sure how many are left anyway, so Stan can just have them. Especially since Stan hasn't been eating at all, apparently. "Just eat so I know you're not going to die and come back and lay on me."**

Stan stared at Craig, a bit dumbfounded, and with a slight reddish hue forming in his cheeks. Hearing that his cooking was fucking delicious, and that the grasshopper wanted in on the action, really made him embarrassed. Had he been fishing for compliments? Whatever. He bit into the taco and then finished off another before he finally edged over to the other, grabbing the edge of the blankets as he moved and then crawled on top of Craig. Pulling the two blankets over the top of them, he wrapped his arms around Craig's waist and then closed his eyes - his head just under the other's chin.

**Craig is glad to have Stan actually laying on top of him, and wraps his arms around Stan. It's warm under the blankets, and there couldn't be a better ending to this day. Even if Craig is probably going to be really sore from sleeping on a rock like this, he doesn't care. He closes his eyes and sighs contentedly.**

"**Good night, Stan," he says. And after a few seconds hesitation adds, "I love you." Even if he'd said it already today, it still makes his heart pound with the weight of what it means. Also, it's a whole other thing to say it first.**

"Love you too, Craig," Stan muttered, smiling as he nuzzled the other, his fingertips slightly massaging the other's back where his arms were wrapped around him. Sleeping on Craig like this was extremely comforting, and he had a feeling he'd actually sleep well even if they were out on rocks. Just the sound of Craig's heart beat made the night seem safer somehow, and he started to drift off and was soon asleep.


	23. 05 28 2012

05.28.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **hey craig

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **do you like the zoo?

**Craig Tucker: **I guess?

**Stan Marsh: **you said you were into photography last night, right

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, more film than still life, though

**Stan Marsh: **oh

**Craig Tucker: **But yeah, I like both

**Stan Marsh: **well, I'm going with Christophe and Gregory to the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo

**Stan Marsh: **and I was wondering if you wanted to go along and take pictures

**Stan Marsh: **because we're going to go in the giraffe pen

**Craig Tucker: **Do I need to play photographer to go somewhere with you?

**Stan Marsh: **...no

**Stan Marsh: **but there's a baby giraffe...I want pictures with it

**Craig Tucker: **Okay

**Stan Marsh: **if you don't want to take pictures don't

**Craig Tucker: **I can take a picture of you with a giraffe, damn

**Craig Tucker: **I didn't say I didn't want to, I was just saying that I shouldn't have to take pictures to go to the zoo

**Stan Marsh: **...oh, no

**Stan Marsh: **I didn't mean it like that, dude

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not a bastard

**Stan Marsh: **well I am

**Stan Marsh: **but not that much of a bastard

**Stan Marsh: **anyways, one of my teammates on the baseball team knows someone at the zoo so we can actually go through the habitat

**Craig Tucker: **Debatable. But whatever, I'll go to the zoo

**Craig Tucker: **And okay

**Stan Marsh: **okay :)

**Stan Marsh: **how was your day?

**Craig Tucker: **Um, it was okay

**Craig Tucker: **I had work

**Stan Marsh: **on memorial day? that sucks

**Stan Marsh: **I spent it with family

**Craig Tucker: **It was to get out of a family thing, really

**Craig Tucker: **And to get the extra hours

**Stan Marsh: **ah

**Stan Marsh: **I think my uncle would disown me if I worked on memorial day

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Stan Marsh: **...it's a military holiday

**Craig Tucker: **Why does he care what you do with your time?

**Stan Marsh: **uh..I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **either way, they wanted me to drink with them and I said no

**Craig Tucker: **That's good

**Craig Tucker: **That's actually really good

**Stan Marsh: **yeah..

**Craig Tucker: **Why "yeah.."

**Stan Marsh: **...because?

**Craig Tucker: **It is good; you've been stressed and you didn't drink, that's fucking good

**Stan Marsh: **yeah, I guess

**Stan Marsh: **I'm going to go broke on cigarettes

**Craig Tucker: **So you're just filling the space with cigarettes then?

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I couldn't see you today

**Stan Marsh: **what the hell was I supposed to fill it with

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, something that's not bad for you. I can't really say don't smoke because that would be stupid considering I do it too, but you can't smoke so much that it breaks your wallet

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Craig Tucker: **You should learn more stuff on the guitar

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **I already do that

**Stan Marsh: **it doesn't help

**Craig Tucker: **Like easy stuff

**Stan Marsh: **uh, I already do

**Stan Marsh: **and hard stuff

**Craig Tucker: **So I can watch

**Stan Marsh: **...really?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, it was cool

**Stan Marsh: **you listen to avenged sevenfold, right?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, why?

**Stan Marsh: **I can play the guitar parts in both welcome to the family and nightmare

**Craig Tucker: **That's awesome

**Stan Marsh: **www(.)youtube(.)com/watch?v=yVg2ZNF5_tc - and that

**Stan Marsh: **but, it's been awhile..I don't know if I can still do that

**Craig Tucker: **That was really fast

**Stan Marsh: **yeah..

**Stan Marsh: **...so do I get to see your drawings?

**Stan Marsh: **...what about videos?

**Craig Tucker: **Like I said, they're not really drawings, more incoherent ideas

**Craig Tucker: **Videos?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah, film

**Craig Tucker: **It's mostly just me and Clyde being idiots

**Stan Marsh: **..oh

**Craig Tucker: **And some other stuff, but there's nothing that interesting to film in South Park

**Craig Tucker: **oh?

**Stan Marsh: **..have you ever done anything about me?

**Craig Tucker: **In a storyboard? No

**Craig Tucker: **And I'm pretty sure you'd know if I filmed you

**Stan Marsh: **I actually have a lot of retarded drawings of you

**Craig Tucker: **Haha, really?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah.

**Craig Tucker: **Like what?

**Stan Marsh: **whenever you pissed me off I used to scribble crap on my notes

**Craig Tucker: **Actually, me too

**Stan Marsh: **really

**Craig Tucker: **I don't take a lot of actual notes

**Stan Marsh: **neither do I

**Craig Tucker: **Just, rant or doodle shit that's happening

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Craig Tucker: **I'm pretty sure I killed you a few times, no offence

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **really

**Stan Marsh: **dude, I'm not even that bad

**Craig Tucker: **Eh, we were pretty bad

**Stan Marsh: **...so you killed me a few times on paper

**Stan Marsh: **that actually makes me nervous

**Craig Tucker: **Relax

**Craig Tucker: **I love you, remember?

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah, I remember

**Stan Marsh: **but dude that totally doesn't change the fact you paper-murdered me

**Stan Marsh: **can I see?

**Craig Tucker: **Why would you want to see that

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **It's not like I'm taking it to court as evidence of paper-murder, come on

**Stan Marsh: **the worst I ever did to you was push you off the side of the paper, okay

**Stan Marsh: **that was the worst

**Craig Tucker: **That's because you're not as mean as I am

**Stan Marsh: **...really

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, you're a woman on the inside

**Stan Marsh: **...what the hell

**Stan Marsh: **look, women aren't weak, dude

**Craig Tucker: **I didn't say they were

**Stan Marsh: **yet you said I'm a woman on the inside

**Craig Tucker: **Look, there's a difference between saying someone is a woman and female

**Craig Tucker: **Like there's a difference between fag and being gay

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **fine

**Stan Marsh: **but having morals against paper-killing doesn't make someone womanly

**Stan Marsh: **I'm pretty sure I drew you getting squished by a giant guinea pig once, though. no offense.

**Craig Tucker: **A giant pig

**Craig Tucker: **why

**Stan Marsh: **...because

**Stan Marsh: **you flipped me off and I walked into a locker, okay

**Stan Marsh: **I was pissed

**Craig Tucker: **Oh okay, well you can't see my notes anyway because I throw them all out as soon as we take a test

**Craig Tucker: **It's not like there's notes on them anyway

**Craig Tucker: **You walked into a locker

**Stan Marsh: **yeah.

**Stan Marsh: **it was open

**Craig Tucker: **Was I that distracting?

**Stan Marsh: **...shut up

**Craig Tucker: **So you've always stared at me; that's not just recent?

**Stan Marsh: **...um

**Stan Marsh: **I've watched you...yes

**Stan Marsh: **but not in a creeper way

**Craig Tucker: **For what reason, then?

**Stan Marsh: **it wasn't because I was interested, you were just there

**Stan Marsh: **who hasn't looked at people, jesus

**Stan Marsh: **I look at Clyde too

**Stan Marsh: **just not as much because he doesn't piss me off

**Craig Tucker: **Are you saying you watch Clyde, too

**Stan Marsh: **dude, no

**Stan Marsh: **Just like

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **fine

**Craig Tucker: **There's a difference between looking at watching, you said you watched me

**Stan Marsh: **I looked at you a lot

**Craig Tucker: **Did you?

**Stan Marsh: **didn't you do the same thing

**Craig Tucker: **Sometimes, when I was glaring you down for a purpose

**Craig Tucker: **You always noticed

**Stan Marsh: **for a purpose

**Stan Marsh: **?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, if you were pissing me off or if I felt like being a dick or something

**Craig Tucker: **Like I said, you always noticed

**Craig Tucker: **It was to let you know I was angry

**Stan Marsh: **so me glaring at you is totally different from you glaring me down

**Stan Marsh: **how is that fair

**Craig Tucker: **Because you said you _watched_ me, there's a difference

**Stan Marsh: **yeah, I watched you when I was pissed off

**Stan Marsh: **I guess it counts as glaring if you want to get technical

**Stan Marsh: **It's not like I was looking at you and drawing hearts on a napkin

**Craig Tucker: **Nah, just your notes

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **seriously, I save my notes

**Stan Marsh: **I could email you every single one that you're on

**Craig Tucker: **If you're going to show me, I'd rather just be at your house instead of having the files on my computer

**Stan Marsh: **really

**Stan Marsh: **why?

**Craig Tucker: **Cause then I can see you. And talk about them and stuff

**Stan Marsh: **that's embarrassing

**Craig Tucker: **Why? It was supposedly Just pushing me off the paper and squishing me with a pig

**Craig Tucker: **It's not like it's a love letter

**Stan Marsh: **there was ...a lot

**Stan Marsh: **and they weren't all nice

**Stan Marsh: **it might have not been death

**Stan Marsh: **I guess it's probably classified as torture, but yeah

**Craig Tucker: **really

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah

**Craig Tucker: **So tying my writs together with your belt wasn't a new idea; you've tortured me in your head 'a lot'

**Craig Tucker: **Now I want to see

**Craig Tucker: **You're imagination skills

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **it wasn't like that

**Craig Tucker: **I still want to see

**Craig Tucker: **You're showing me these tomorrow

**Stan Marsh: **No, now I don't want to

**Craig Tucker: **Why, how much bondage did you draw

**Stan Marsh: **goddamnit it's not bondage

**Craig Tucker: **So "a lot"

**Stan Marsh: **damnit craig

**Stan Marsh: **I did not draw you in bondage

**Craig Tucker: **Then show me

**Stan Marsh: **...no

**Craig Tucker: **Why not?

**Stan Marsh: **because it might be misconstrued as bondage?

**Stan Marsh: **which

**Stan Marsh: **it's not

**Craig Tucker: **You know, the more we skip down memory lane here, the more I'm realizing Token was probably right

**Craig Tucker: **How the fuck did we not notice

**Stan Marsh: **...what

**Stan Marsh: **...notice what

**Craig Tucker: **How many times did you go out of your way, just to piss me off?

**Stan Marsh: **...almost every day. But that's just dedication to hating someone

**Craig Tucker: **Uh huh

**Craig Tucker: **And how often did you watch me

**Craig Tucker: **Or draw me in bondage

**Craig Tucker: **Or any of the things we used to do

**Stan Marsh: **it's not bondage!

**Craig Tucker: **Okay whatever, still

**Stan Marsh: **there's ropes

**Stan Marsh: **not bondage

**Stan Marsh: **Possibly chains, I don't know where the zombie saga went

**Craig Tucker: **We paid way more attention to each other than anyone else, even if we classified it as "hate'

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah, so?

**Craig Tucker: **So seriously, I'm pissed off that we never noticed we were actually flirting with each other that whole time

**Craig Tucker: **and those dicks

**Craig Tucker: **didn't even tell me

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **I'm pretty sure my girlfriend would have noticed if I was flirting

**Stan Marsh: **...then again she didn't tell me she knew about me and kyle making out

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, well I had a boyfriend

**Stan Marsh: **and then told me she would totally watch us make out and it would be really hot

**Stan Marsh: **which made me and kyle extremely creeped out

**Craig Tucker: **...not the point

**Stan Marsh: **no, probably not

**Stan Marsh: **it's not flirting

**Stan Marsh: **you made my life hell

**Stan Marsh: **how is that flirting

**Stan Marsh: **Remember that time you refused to work on that project with me

**Stan Marsh: **I almost failed

**Craig Tucker: **Because it probably made you think about me a lot more than you should have

**Stan Marsh: **that was not flirting

**Stan Marsh: **so, I think about Kyle all the time

**Stan Marsh: **it doesn't mean I'm flirting with him

**Craig Tucker: **No, but he's you're best friend, and you should really stop comparing me to him

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not

**Stan Marsh: **...?

**Craig Tucker: **..whatever, I'm not sure where I'm going with this, so what was the point of this conversation

**Craig Tucker: **the zoo

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Craig Tucker: **I'll go

**Stan Marsh: **cool

**Stan Marsh: **...okay, fine

**Stan Marsh: **it was flirting

**Stan Marsh: **it was probably flirting and this is probably soft core porn

**Stan Marsh: **I don't even know what I was thinking when I drew this

**Stan Marsh: **can I just burn it out back and we never speak of this again

**Craig Tucker: **yeah, go for it

**Stan Marsh: **...have you played terraria?

**Craig Tucker: **I don't think so

**Stan Marsh: **this picture is me pushing you into the eye of chuthlu, does that count as paper-murder

**Craig Tucker: **Probably

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Craig Tucker: **I have to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **thanks for the update

**Craig Tucker: **yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I'm eating oatmeal

**Stan Marsh: **just so you know

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to digest this without you knowing

**Craig Tucker: **Good to know

**Stan Marsh: **we should probably go to bed

**Stan Marsh: **it's pretty damn late

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah it is

**Craig Tucker: **Good night

**Stan Marsh: **night craig

**Stan Marsh: **love you

**Craig Tucker: **you too

**Stan Marsh: **...hey are you still up?

**Stan Marsh: **you should come over tomorrow

**Stan Marsh: **and look at mellow

**Stan Marsh: **this is a horrible thing to say because of all pregnant women needing respect, but she's so fat and it's adorable omg

**Craig Tucker: **Alright, I will

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **night now

**Craig Tucker: **good night

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **that was incredibly short, what did I do

**Craig Tucker: **Nothing, just get some sleep

**Stan Marsh: **...love you

**Craig Tucker: **you too, stan

**Stan Marsh: **...awww super kawaii

**Craig Tucker: **kawaii

**Craig Tucker: **really

**Stan Marsh: **yep

**Craig Tucker: **you fucking weeaboo

**Stan Marsh: **no, not really

**Stan Marsh: **I don't really watch anime

**Stan Marsh: **by the way I left my pocky in your room and I know you still have it goddamnit

**Stan Marsh: **and I'm fine with that

**Stan Marsh: **but I swear to god if you eat it without me I'm going to draw you on my notes in actual bondage

**Craig Tucker: **well I won't eat it with anyone but you

**Stan Marsh: **okay, thanks

**Stan Marsh: **night

**Craig Tucker: **night


	24. 05 29 2012

05.29.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **hey craig

**Craig Tucker: **Hey

**Stan Marsh: **so I copied those notes that I drew on for you

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah? I thought I was just going to come look at them

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **you're not looking at these in person

**Stan Marsh: **I burned them anyways

**Stan Marsh: **after scanning them in

**Craig Tucker: **Why, I wanted to look at them with you

**Stan Marsh: **...no

**Stan Marsh: **okay, I'm just sending them to you

**Craig Tucker: **You really burned them?

**Stan Marsh: **i1078 dot photobucket dot com/albums/w493/stanisverycool/notes2 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker: **That's... interesting, okay

**Stan Marsh: **i1078 dot photobucket dot com/albums/w493/stanisverycool/notes3 dot jpg

**Stan Marsh: **i1078 dot photobucket dot com/albums/w493/stanisverycool/notes4 dot jpg

**Stan Marsh: **i1078 dot photobucket dot com/albums/w493/stanisverycool/notes1 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker: **How are these not murder

**Stan Marsh: **They show nothing omg

**Stan Marsh: **i1078 dot photobucket dot com/albums/w493/stanisverycool/notes5 dot jpg

**Stan Marsh: **that one

**Stan Marsh: **okay, that one is murder

**Craig Tucker: **They were all murder, except the one with you drawing on me

**Craig Tucker: **Why would you even doodle that

**Stan Marsh: **doodle what?

**Craig Tucker: **Drawing on me, wtf

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah well

**Stan Marsh: **you were asleep during class

**Craig Tucker: **So you've always watched me in my sleep

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **no, I haven't

**Craig Tucker: **It's okay, I know, I'm hard to look away from

**Stan Marsh: **stfu, dude

**Craig Tucker: **Okay show me more

**Stan Marsh: **I only have one i scanned in from today

**Stan Marsh: **that's it

**Stan Marsh: **those were the only ones I wanted to show you

**Stan Marsh: **did you want to see today's?...

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Craig Tucker: **what were the rest?

**Craig Tucker: **And there was one today?

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I took it during chem.

**Craig Tucker: **Sure, show me

**Stan Marsh: **...now I don't want to

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Stan Marsh: **you're upset I killed you with cute

**Stan Marsh: **I'm sorry

**Stan Marsh: **I feel incredibly bad about it, okay

**Stan Marsh: **I'm a paper murderer

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not upset, I killed you too, remember

**Craig Tucker: **It's actually funny that you killed me with guineas. Twice

**Stan Marsh: **...why

**Stan Marsh: **guinea pigs aren't supposed to be used as weapons, dude

**Craig Tucker: **Because what a non-violent, fluffy way to kill someone

**Stan Marsh: **...you killed me violently?

**Craig Tucker: **Sometimes, but I guess I'm just creative

**Stan Marsh: **...like how

**Craig Tucker: **Like I dunno

**Craig Tucker: **Ways

**Stan Marsh: **...tell me how

**Craig Tucker: **Show me today's notes and I'll consider it

**Stan Marsh: **no, tell me how

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Craig Tucker: **It was just stupid shit like piking you and stuff

**Stan Marsh: **...piking me

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **...like wtf

**Stan Marsh: **Like

**Stan Marsh: **stabbing me with a pike?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, what else would I do with a pike

**Stan Marsh: **...how many times did you stab me on paper

**Craig Tucker: **With a pike? Like twice

**Stan Marsh: **what about a sword?

**Craig Tucker: **Actually, I never did that

**Stan Marsh: **...why a pike?

**Craig Tucker: **Does there have to be a why?

**Stan Marsh: **...so how often did you draw you thrusting things in me?

**Craig Tucker: **There were a lot of sharp objects involved

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah

**Craig Tucker: **So you should show me today's notes

**Stan Marsh: **you better not ...like, laugh

**Stan Marsh: **i1078 dot photobucket dot com/albums/w493/stanisverycool/notes6 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker: **Why would I laugh

**Stan Marsh: **...you think it's stupid, right

**Craig Tucker: **No, why would I think that

**Craig Tucker: **It's _kawaii_

**Stan Marsh: **ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

**Stan Marsh: **this is why I'm not showing you in person

**Craig Tucker: **But if you showed me in person I could kiss you

**Stan Marsh: **or laugh in my face

**Craig Tucker: **Or kiss you

**Stan Marsh: **...do you want to come over?

**Craig Tucker: **Do you want me to?

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **I really want to be with you right now, yeah

**Craig Tucker: **Then yes

**Stan Marsh: **but the things I want to do with you, we probably can't do in my house, so..

**Craig Tucker: **Then come over here

**Craig Tucker: **After work today, by the way, I went and looked at those apartments I was talking about

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **hey, craig.

**Craig Tucker: **What?

**Stan Marsh: **the movie theater's closed tonight because of pipe maintenance..

**Stan Marsh: **and I have a key.

**Craig Tucker: **Are you saying you want to go to the movie theater?

**Stan Marsh: **we wouldn't have to use gags, so yeah.

**Craig Tucker: **Hm, but you looked cute with my hat clenched between your teeth

**Craig Tucker: **But okay, lets go

**Stan Marsh: **well, we could use it the first time and then do it without..

**Stan Marsh: **do you really need sleep tonight?

**Craig Tucker: **The first time?

**Craig Tucker: **No, sleep isn't necessary

**Stan Marsh: **so because I don't give a fuck since my boss is a hard ass, we can have sex on any flat or unflat surface in the whole building

**Craig Tucker: **Spiteful

**Craig Tucker: **Should I bring the handcuffs?

**Stan Marsh: **of course

**Stan Marsh: **should I pick you up?

**Craig Tucker: **If you want, yeah

**Stan Marsh: **should I bring a leash?

**Craig Tucker: **For what, are we going to walk around?

**Craig Tucker: **If you want, I guess

**Stan Marsh: **well you enjoyed binding and gagging me so much, I thought the leash might be a nice addition.

**Craig Tucker: **Maybe

**Craig Tucker: **I don't really care, I just like touching you

**Stan Marsh: **really

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, I like making you feel good and seeing the look on your face when I do it just right

**Stan Marsh: **do you think we could use popcorn butter as a lube?

**Craig Tucker: **No, that would be gross

**Stan Marsh: **really

**Stan Marsh: **would it

**Craig Tucker: **And you'd probably get some kind of weird... no, we're not using butter

**Stan Marsh: **...weird what

**Craig Tucker: **You realize where that butter would be, right

**Craig Tucker: **That's not somewhere that should be buttered

**Stan Marsh: **...you've used lotion right

**Stan Marsh: **lotion's not supposed to be there either

**Craig Tucker: **Let's just stick to regular lube, okay? Whatever else we do, whatever, but I don't want one of us to get something stupid from using weird products

**Craig Tucker: **What if one of us got a rash or something, fucking hell

**Stan Marsh: **...dude

**Stan Marsh: **you're worried about that

**Craig Tucker: **I don't want something on my dick if I don't know what it's going to do, give me a break

**Craig Tucker: **What's wrong with lube anyway

**Stan Marsh: **okay, fine

**Stan Marsh: **we can use lube

**Stan Marsh: **and it sounds like you're sure you're not using a condom if you're putting it on your dick

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, well do you really want that in your ass?

**Stan Marsh: **...not really

**Stan Marsh: **I just thought it might be ...I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **okay, too much porn

**Stan Marsh: **w/e

**Stan Marsh: **okay, I'm leaving now

**Craig Tucker: **Okay

* * *

Grabbing his jacket, a spare bag full of clothes, a tooth brush and various other things; he headed out to his truck and threw it in. He pulled out after starting the truck and praying no one would wake up because of his loud engine. Humming for a bit as he drove slowly, he pulled up to Craig's house and then waited for him to come out.

**Craig dumps out his back pack and stuffs some stuff inside it. A t-shirt and a pair of shorts, in case his clothes get… soiled, and the necessary supplies for their intended activities. He looks out his window, and he sees Stan's truck sitting in the street. He makes his way downstairs and climbs into Stan's truck. "Hey," he says, throwing his bag on the floor and leaning over the arm rest to give Stan a hello kiss. He takes Stan's face in both hands and kisses him hard. He only lets the tip of his tongue brush along Stan's lips before he pulls back into his own seat and straps his seat belt. He's somewhat excited to be going out with Stan, but only really because they get to be together. They could have sex anywhere Stan fucking wanted and Craig would be happy with it.**

Smiling into Craig's kiss, he hit the pedal to go and went a little bit faster than he expected, so he slowed down to pull out of the subdivision. He really didn't want noisy neighbors to wonder who was roaring out of the neighborhood. Pulling out onto one of the back roads - it wasn't that far to the theater, maybe ten minutes - he looked over at Craig and said, "So did you bring condoms? Can I like, see them for a minute?"

**Craig raises a brow when Stan asks about the condoms. "Um, yeah I did, they're in my bag," he says, reaching down to unzip it. "What do you want to see them for?" he asks, pulling them out of the bag slowly and holding the box out to Stan a bit cautiously. What the Hell could Stan want them for? It's not like they're interesting to look at or something, and there's no point in messing around in a cramped truck when they have a whole goddamned movie theater at their disposal.**

Plucking the box from Craig's hand, he looked at them for a minute - the hand he was holding them in was resting on the wheel as the other hand pushed the window roller. It descended downwards slowly, and then Stan flung the box out of the moving truck. He casually hit the button to make the window roll up again, and he placed both hands on the wheel like he hadn't done anything at all.

"**Stan, what the fuck!" Craig asks, looking back at the road, now littered with a near full box of condoms. "If you didn't want to use them, all you had to do was say so, fuck," he says, turning back forwards in his seat. He'd paid for those, and he really doesn't appreciate Stan just throwing out his money like that. He crosses his arms across his chest and watches out his own window as Stan continues to drive. He's not that upset, he supposes, because if Stan doesn't want to use them then he won't need any anyways.**

"I'll buy you more, jesus christ." Stan said as he looked up at the rearview mirror at the road. "And you would have like, debated it for an hour before doing it and I really don't want to wait for you to make up your mind about what I want to experience or not, so fuck it. The condoms are gone."

He reached over and turned on the air in the truck, even though they probably only had another three minutes before they got to their turn off. As soon as they pulled in, he parked in the employees side parking lot, so no one driving by would notice. Then he turned off the truck and leaned over the seat to grab his bag, and then held his key chain in one hand.

"Okay, so there's cameras in there. But we can record the whole thing, switch out the tapes, and they'll never figure out there's missing time."

He opened his door and then shut it with a smile on his face, wondering if Craig would catch that they could totally put on a show and watch it later.

**Craig just kind of stares after Stan as he exits the truck. Stan is… in a really good mood. He wonders what's up that's got him so chipper, but he decides not to question it and just enjoy it. Who cares if Stan just tossed the condoms? Craig is just going to love the fuck out of this, what's the word… fiery Stan.**

**He gets out of the truck, near slamming the door behind him and he follows after Stan, tossing his back pack over one shoulder. He sports a shit eating grin as he throws an arm around Stan's shoulder, walking beside him up to the door. "So what you're saying is that you're going to steal the security footage and keep the sex tape?" he asks. Stan has a lot of interesting kinks, something Craig never quite expected out of him. Not that Craig is complaining.**

"Noooooo, I'm going to put them up in the projector rooms for people to watch." Stan said with blatant sarcasm, though he had a smile on his face as he fumbled with his keys. Goddamn, it had been a long time since he locked up - and he really had never gone back in after shutting the door. For a moment he wriggled his way out of Craig's arms.

"Sorry, just hold on, there's a timer on the other side for the alarm," He said as he found the key and unlocked the front door. Moving inside quickly, he unlocked the second door, and then went inside on the opposite wall and flipped the switch and plugged in the code. The panel turned from red to white again, and he flipped it shut and set his bags on the floor. He intended on locking the door again anyways, just so when they were going at it, no homeless people wandered in or something.  
Opening the door he held it open for Craig.

"Okay, it's clear. I have to lock this door though, I don't want people wandering in."

"**You make this seem like some kind of secret mission," Craig says, slipping through the door that Stan had opened. Though he has to admit that it's fun to be breaking in somewhere with Stan. Craig has always enjoyed mischief, and the fact that he's doing shit with Stan for the sake of fucking in a movie theater, it's kind of awesome.**

**He drops his bag next to Stan's and waits for Stan to lock the door.**

Locking the first set of doors, he left the second set unlocked. Seriously, if someone broke in the first ones, then he really doubted a second set of doors was going to keep them out. Walking inside, he took off his jacket and flung it on his bag which was near the doors, and then he walked over to Craig and draped his arms around the other's shoulders, caressing the back of his neck as he stared at him with a lingering gaze.

"So have you ever broken into a business and had sex multiple times with a deviant employee?"

**Craig winds his arms around Stan's waist and brings him in close, eyeing him a bit hungrily. "No, but I think it might be fun," he says, dropping his gaze to Stan's lips. He **_**really **_**wants to feel those lips all over himself. Feel Stan's skin rub against his own. He leans down and takes Stan's mouth in a hurried kiss. It's hard and full of desire. Seconds don't even pass before he slips his tongue between his lips to war with Stan's. He backs Stan against the nearest wall and cups his face in his hand.**

Sneaking his hand up to Craig's hoodie, he pushed back the hood and then started unzipping the zipper as the other pressed up against him fervently. His own tongue battled with Craig's for a moment, and then he slowly ran his upper teeth over Craig's tongue as he parted - moving away leisurely as if he were trying to keep Craig's tongue delicately trapped between his teeth. Letting it go, he looked up at Craig and said, "Clothes off. Now."

**Craig shivers as Stan runs his teeth along Craig's tongue, trapping it lightly. At Stan's demand, Craig feels his blood race and he wants nothing more than to strip down and climb on top of Stan, but then a better idea hits him. He leans in, his lips barely brushing Stan's as he retaliates, "Help me."**

Narrowing his eyes at the other's refusal to disrobe himself, he moved to roughly draw the hoodie off of Craig's shoulders, and then let it drop to the floor as he went for the top of Craig's pants. With how quickly he was moving, he kept his eyes focused on Craig's, his expression serious and his hands moving with an obvious sense of urgency. With one short tug, the zipper was down, and he let the pants sink down as he pushed the other's boxers down with them.

Feeling slightly shaken by his own confidence, he moved his hands downwards to Craig's bare hips as the other had him up against the wall.

"What do you want to do now?" He whispered, a bit of a taunt.

**Craig can't help but to love how excited Stan seems to be, what with how quickly he gets rid of Craig's clothes. He somehow manages to kick off his shoes and remove the clothing from his ankles without being too obnoxious. At Stan's question, Craig presses his body against Stan's leaves a short kiss on his lips. "What do you **_**think**_** I want to do? I want to wrap your legs around my hips and fuck you up against this wall," he says, leaning in for another rough kiss as his fingers go for Stan's belt buckle. He makes quick work of it, and the fastenings, and he tugs the material off Stan's hips and down his legs.**

Once his pants fell to the floor, he stepped out of them and then wrapped his arms firmly around Craig's neck, his fingers lacing together so he could do what he intended to do next. Hoisting himself upwards so his legs were wrapped around the other, pressing himself against Craig as he kissed him roughly, his hands now working their way upwards to comb through Craig's dark hair.

"Do it then." He whispered once he pulled away, staring at Craig with a deep gaze, and started to grip the other's hair tightly in his fingers.

**Craig's hands automatically grip under Stan's thighs to keep him securely up against the wall. He presses close, using his own body as extra support. He feels Stan's fingers grip in his hair, and then Stan whispers, and Craig's heart beats hard in his chest, his blood al flowing to one place. The logical side of his brain knows that they need lubricant, and that he should probably prepare Stan again, but the part of his brain that knows his dick is pressed up against Stan's ass doesn't want to listen. "Fuck, ugh, the lube," he manages to put together, his hands flexing a little tighter under Stan's things in Craig's frustrated attempt to use the Force to bring himself the lube. It unfortunately fails, and he's stuck between their physical proximity and practicality.**

Feeling Craig flexing his hands and the mumbling of lubricant, Stan remembered they had completely skipped a part somewhere in this hot and heavy moment - and that step was sort of a big one. In frustration he gripped Craig's hair even harder and then said, "Well, fuck!" Really, he hadn't been thinking until now. In sheer desperation he said, "Fuck the lube, just go!"

**Craig releases a somewhat strangled groan as Stan's grip pulls his hair taught. He tries to fight with himself, telling himself it's a bad idea, even though Stan just said it was okay. They're both just really caught up, they need to think with their brains, not their dicks. But that's all Craig can really focus on at the moment, so he's having a hard time. "Are… are you sure?" he asks, his breathing coming a little shorter with the anticipation of what might be happening.**

"Craig. I am sure. I am so sure I can't even come up with a sarcastic comment to that," He said a little breathlessly, but he delivered it with an appropriate amount of irritation. Pulling on Craig's hair again, he bowed his head to kiss the other's neck, and then nipped him lightly, pulling at the skin gently with his teeth. Then he said needily, "Just do it.."

**Craig has little left in him that says he shouldn't do this. Stan is just too damn convincing, with his stupid face and his stupid voice and his stupid teeth… his sexy teeth. "Just… it's going to hurt," he says, as his last line of defense. He can feel his skin getting hypersensitive, and every nerve in him is screaming to just let Stan have it. With a little concentrated effort, he shifts Stan against the wall for a second to position himself properly at Stan's entrance. It's damn hard to do without the use of his hands, though. Even in his current desperation, he still hesitates. He knows it's going to hurt, and he knows Stan doesn't care right now, but what about later?**

His fingers flexed once in Craig's hair, and then started to tighten again as he moved his face to process his forehead against Craig's. Looking at him with the most sexual gaze he could muster, he said rather hastily, "You fucking bastard, just do it." He was convinced Craig's twenty asks before they did anything stemmed from giving him blue balls in the locker room - he wondered how long it would be before that wore off. Probably never, he was stuck with the Vista version of Craig - 'Would you like to install this program? Are you SURE you want to install this program? To install this program, please close and open again.." only with Craig it was, "Are you sure you want to have sex with me even when you have me pinned against the wall and it might hurt? Are you sure? Are you really sure?" He wasn't sure how much more he could take of the questions, so he let out a loud groan, and dug his fingernails into Craig's head.

**Craig can't take it anymore with the look Stan is giving him, and it just drives him over the edge when Stan digs his fingernails into his scalp. Fuck later, life is for living in the now. He pushes forward, past that first ring of muscle and slowly starts to bury himself in Stan. He shudders at him unbearably **_**tight**_** it is. With Stan's forehead against his own. Craig tilts his head up to kiss Stan. He knows as determined as Stan was before, it hurts like all Hell now, so he wants to be any comfort he can.**

"Ahhhhnn..._**ah**_!" Somehow Stan hadn't been thinking of the lack of fluidity with their movements if lube wasn't in the equation, and now he realized, a bit too late, that this was going to have a lot more jarred movements then before and also be a great deal more painful. He closed his eyes shut, and dug his nails further into Craig's scalp - probably more so then he usually would have, and probably a lot harder, but he was unsure of how hard he was gripping in this moment. He allowed Craig to kiss him, but at the same time, he wasn't going to return it because he was focusing on his rapid heartbeat fluttering in his chest, and every sensation that was now coursing up through his body.

**Craig goes slow, even almost stopping every few seconds, to make this sudden stretch less of a shock. He knows it's going to hurt Stan regardless, but the least he can do is try to be gentle until Stan gets used to it. He keeps on kissing Stan, even though Stan isn't returning the sentiment. Stan is probably a little overwhelmed, so it's understandable. But Craig still wants to be there for him in any way possible. A little more than half way, Craig asks softly, "Are you okay?"**

"Fine," Stan manages to say, his eyes still closed. It was partly due to the fact he feared he might start to cry, and he couldn't handle Craig freaking out on him. Just because Craig had the emotional flexibility of a washboard didn't mean Stan couldn't cry during the act, right? Either way, his breathing had grown erratic, and his face was flushed red as he gripped Craig's hair. With another prolonged moan, he put his forehead against Craig's again.

**It's getting really hard for Craig to hold back, but he manages to stay slow for Stan's sake. He finally makes it all the way in, and he pauses to try and catch his breath. He allows Stan to have time to adjust, now that he's basically being impaled. As hard as it is, he waits for Stan to say it's okay to move.**

With tears forming at the edge of his eyes, he tensed up when Craig finished his entry. Despite the pressure and slight pain, the familiar feeling of ecstasy surged through him, and he just wanted Craig to go. Then why the hell did he stop? Every fucking time..Stan was starting to think the other was broken. "What..fuck..go!" He demanded irately, opening his eyes to shoot Craig an intense glare as he dug his fingernails in his scalp again. Finding it difficult to get words out without trembling, he said in a slightly fragmented sentence- "You..pike me faster on paper!"

**Craig scoffs at that and starts to pull back. He starts out a little slow, pumping in and out at a steady pace, trying to make sure he finds Stan's hot spot so the pain will stop being evident. He knows once he hits it, the pain won't matter anymore, and they can just go at it. He leans his head forward, into the crook of Stan's neck, and bites down lightly before starting to suck on the skin.**

With a slight gasp, Stan gripped onto Craig's hair, but was starting to ease up because he was consciously aware that if he yanked his hands in anyway, he might damage Craig's hair, and that would be a tragedy because Stan loved Craig's hair. When the other stroked his spot, Stan let out a gasp and then a groan, and shut his eyes again when Craig bit into him. "C-Craig," he said breathlessly, his whole body shaking with a slight tremor, "Fuck.." He felt himself reacting as beads of sweat ran down his temples, his muscles tense.

**Hearing his own name come out of Stan's mouth in such a way is Craig's last straw. That simple word shoots through Craig's body and makes him start to move a little faster. With each thrust up into Stan, Craig loses a little more of himself to the pleasure and soon he's picked up a quick pace. He keeps a firm hold on Stan to keep them both from falling to the floor. Soon enough, he can't even focus anymore, and his hips jerk hard and fast. He thinks it won't be long until they're both finished.**

Stan couldn't keep himself from reacting loudly; between the groaning and occasional gasping, he repeated Craig's name, a bit louder each time. With his eyes closed tight, his hands gripping Craig's hair, his toes curling behind Craig; he was a mess. "Ughnnn..Craig," he moaned loudly, and he couldn't take it anymore - he felt himself release, and then he gave a shudder as he exhaled noisily.

**Feeling Stan release all over his t-shirt, it's not long before Craig does as well. He sort of feels bad for doing it inside Stan, but Stan said he wanted to experience it anyway, right? He slides himself out and collapses against Stan, pinning him harder to the wall with his body weight, and leans his forehead against the wall near Stan's head. "Fuck," he mutters, breathing heavily against Stan's neck. He keeps his hands under Stan's thighs, but lets it lax a little so that Stan can lower his legs to the floor if he wants to. "Mm, I love you Stan," he says breathily, feeling their erratic heartbeats in their smashed together chests.**

"Oh..my...god." Stan uttered shakily when he felt Craig release, and then when he removed himself, the feeling of fullness _didn't leave_. He breathed as heavily as Craig, his eyes opening as he moved to lower himself- figuring Craig was probably tired of carrying him. That, and he wanted the others' arms free. Once he was down, he moved his arms to pull off his own shirt- then wiped up the warm mess that Craig had made behind Stan as it was trickling downwards, before tossing his shirt on the floor. He pressed himself against Craig, his heart racing as he traced his fingers along the others' spine before they settled on Craig's shoulder. "I fucking love you, Craig," he whispered finally, turning to look up at Craig with an adoring gaze.

**Craig lets off a little once Stan's feet are on the floor so that Stan is no longer smashed against the wall, but doesn't actually separate them past what Stan needs to remove his shirt. He removes his own as well, the front being covered in Stan's mess. When Stan presses himself against him, Craig's arms instinctively wrap around Stan's waist. Craig hums at Stan's response and lowers his head to press a kiss to Stan's lips. He wonders how much more they're going to do today. Stan had said 'multiple times' several times earlier, but how much does that exactly mean?**

Returning the sweet but short kiss, he pulled away as he stared at Craig for a moment, his mouth twitching as he thought. After a moment he stared at the other with a hint of need he said plainly, "I want to wash you in the large sink in the kitchen near the concession stand. Then I want to go down on you on the counter."

**Craig gives Stan a look at first, still not able to understand how Stan could like something like giving head, but that quickly passes. He loves that Stan likes it, because it's fun for both parties, then. "You can do whatever you want," he says, running a hand up through Stan's hair. Really, Stan hasn't had a bad suggestion yet regarding their sex lives, so he pretty much always agrees.**

Stan reaches up and grabs Craig's hand, and then nearly drags him along with him to the concession stand. He pulled up the partition, and then led Craig through and right past the doors. He guided the other to the sink, which truthfully he wouldn't be able to sit in probably, only on the edge- but there was a shower head faucet that had a rather long hose. He motioned for Craig to get on the counter, and silently smacked the other's ass, one eyebrow was raised if Craig was looking at him.

**Craig just silently allows Stan to pull him through the theater and into the kitchen, not really knowing where he's going anyway. Craig gives Stan a look after being smacked and hoists himself onto the counter. Really, Craig will never learn to expect this shit from Stan. Who knew he would do something like that? He looks down at Stan and waits for him to do whatever he's doing.**

Moving Craig forcefully over by putting his feet in the basin of the sink, and then pushing his lower back so his bottom was on the edge. Grabbing the bottle of generic dish soap, he stared at it a moment and then went, "Eh, it's good enough for my dishes, why not." Squirting it in his right hand, he reached over with his left to grab the shower head hose and turned on the water with his wrist. Waiting a good minute until it was warm, he focused the stream on Craig's manhood, and then brought his soapy hand into a lather as he moved his wrist and arm back and forth. He was purposely giving Craig a clean handjob, and he couldn't suppress the smile as he glanced up to see what Craig's face was expressing.

**Craig considers protesting to being man-handled, but ultimately decides to just let Stan do his thing. He leans back on his hands as Stan purposely gives him a handjob instead of just washing him off. What a dick. Either way, there's no point in not enjoying it. He lets his head fall back and his eyes shut as Stan works his hand. He takes his lip lightly between his teeth and waits for Stan to deem this near maddening wash complete so they can move on.**

Stan's hand dipped in and out of the contours of Craig's region after he quit rubbing him. It was a pretty cruel thing to do, but it was just so much _fun_ to tease him, and it was done playfully anyways. After the last suds landed in the sink, he turned off the faucet and looked at Craig from where he stood in front of the sink, and Craig sitting on the counter.

"...can I ask you something?"

**Craig looks over at Stan with a raised brow. "Go for it," he says, looking around on the counter he's seated on for a towel. He's wet now, and he'd like to dry off.**

Noticing he was looking for something to mop up the water, which really was all over the counter - Stan moved over to the cabinet, opened it, and grabbed the brown paper towels. He held them out to Craig, and then stared at the other again, before glancing down, and then back up at Craig's eyes.

"...can I put cotton candy on your dick, and then eat it off you."

**Craig takes the paper towels and starts wiping himself off trying to get as dry as one can be only using paper towels. Craig actually isn't sure he heard right when he hears Stan's request. Did Stan just ask to..? He raises a brow again and looks back at Stan, dumping the paper towels onto the floor. "Can you what?" he asks, making sure he'd heard right.**

Stan averted his eyes to the faucet, turning a deep shade of red as he kept his hands on the side of the sink. "Uh...can I... ..." He paused, wondering if it was so inappropriate that Craig didn't want him to say it. Like, maybe the other had a stopping point that Stan finally reached. Was it really that unusual to eat something off of someone? Seriously, he did it with Wendy ...yeah, he wasn't going to tell Craig that. Well, maybe Craig just never...did it.

"...Can I put cotton candy on your dick and eat it off of you. ...and give you a blow job at the same time."

He looked back at Craig, wanting to see his reaction.

**Craig just kind of stares at Stan for a second, considering what he'd asked. After a few seconds, he cracks a crooked grin. "You are the kinkiest fucking… Yes, you can eat cotton candy off my dick," he says. He turns on the counter so that his legs hang off the side instead of in the sink and leans down to Stan's level. "But you have to kiss me first."**

Smiling, Stan leaned forwards to kiss Craig on the lips, pressing against the other. He put one hand on Craig's shoulder, and the other on his hip, sliding downwards to his lower back, and then his ass. Then he pulled away and started to walk off as he said, "Just one minute, I have to go get it from the case."  
He returned less than two minutes later with a cone that had a bag attached, and inside the bag, blue cotton candy. Walking over to Craig as he tried to peel off the bag without damaging the cotton candy, he threw the wrapper on the floor and then looked at Craig, gingerly holding the cone in one hand as he leaned against the counter, very close to Craig.

"..so you're sure, right."

Maybe he had picked up Craig's habit, who knew.

"I mean, if you think this is kinky, it's really not. Have you ever done it?"

**Craig waits for Stan to return, and thinks about everything that's been happening. Actually, the oddest thing that stands out is the fact that Stan has touched his ass twice since they've been there. Though maybe it's not that odd. After all, that was the very first thing Craig ever went for, way back when they were trapped in the locker rooms.**

**When Stan comes back with the cotton candy, Craig looks down at it, wondering why Stan even wanted that. It just turns to sugar as soon as it gets wet, so as soon as Stan's tongue touches it, it'll turn into a sticky mess.**

**He rolls his eyes when Stan asks if he's sure, because he figures Stan is just doing it to be an ass. Maybe Craig should just stop asking completely and let Stan find out what hurts on his own.**

"**It's not even just this, it's everything you ask for. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, I'm just saying you have a lot of kinks. And no, no one has ever asked to eat something off my dick, but I'm sure I'll be just fine."**

"Well..if you can't do the one thing for six years, you get a lot of fucking kinks, okay," Stan said indignantly, moving to place himself between Craig's legs and then pushed them apart, the cotton candy still in one hand. "Like, seriously, I was to the freaking point of insanity because I couldn't do one thing, and I had to come up with all these ways to be happy and okay, so maybe I like it a bit more than most people, but that doesn't make me weird." He took the cotton candy off the cone, and threw the cone on the floor. Not looking at Craig, and instead at his lower half, he grabbed him in one hand and then slid the cotton candy on with little melting suffered.

Lowering himself, he looked up at Craig, and then put his hands on the other's hips, caressing them slightly with his fingertips.

"So excuse me for having explored a little more in the safe zone, okay."

**Craig isn't sure what to feel when Stan slides the cotton candy onto him. Stan is really just going to eat it off of him like he's a fucking candy stick. He watches Stan sink to his knees and he can't help but get a little excited.**

"**I said it's not a bad thing, so can you please not talk about the sexual endeavors you had with someone else while your head is between my legs?" Craig doesn't have a problem with the fact that Stan has messed around with other people, because Craig sure as Hell had other people before Stan, but somehow it's not the best topic to bring up while **_**with**_** someone.**

"Okay," Stan said shortly, his eyes narrowing as he lowered himself and opened his mouth to bite into the cotton candy. It took him all of a minute to dig in, making a dent in the sugary substance - and reached skin as he licked through the cotton candy. Running his tongue slightly curled along the shaft, he dug his fingers into the delicate skin on Craig's hips.

**Craig watches as Stan eats his way through the cotton candy, anticipation slowly building as Stan gets closer and closer to his actual cock. When Stan finally reaches him, Craig actually has to repress a gasp because he'd been waiting for it that whole time, and then it finally happened. When Stan digs his fingers into his hips, Craig has to grip the counter to keep from touching Stan's head. He really doesn't want to force Stan's mouth around him; that would ruin the whole cotton candy thing. Stan is supposed to **_**lick it off**_**.**

After two minutes of navigating around Craig, he had licked every inch of him - at some point, his tongue even darted around Craig's balls, coaxing the sensitive skin there. Moving forwards after he had thoroughly covered the other's member with saliva, he ran the flat of his tongue up the bottom of Craig and went to the tip - finally placing the other in his mouth. He moved one hand off of Craig's hips to slip underneath him, cupping him as he worked.

**By the time Stan actually takes him in, Craig's knuckles are turning white from gripping the counter so damned hard, and his breathing is coming in pants. It had been like slow, evil, delicious torture to have Stan do nothing but lick at him for several minutes straight. He'd even gotten a little vocal and muttered Stan's name a few times, when he'd been about to say 'fuck it' and just grab the back of his head and make him stop the teasing. But now he's in Stan's mouth, and a shudder of pleasure waves through his body.**

With one hand pressing into Craig's hip, and the other massaging Craig as he cupped him, Stan maneuvered around the other as if he were still getting the cotton candy off. Giving a few long, pressured sucks, he pressed his lips into the other without using his teeth and moved backwards, as if to knead him with his mouth, trying to manipulate him into coming.

"**Fuck, Stan," Craig manages to groan out, his eyes shut tight. Unable to resist anymore, he lets one of his hands travel into Stan's hair and he grips onto it with his fingers. Stan has been getting better at this, and Craig loves every fucking second of it. Stan even went so far as to touch him this time, too. He wonders exactly how Stan can take him in without gagging...**

As Craig thought about Stan taking him in further, Stan attempted this; now he was pretty sure that if he hadn't taken anti-gagging medications, he would probably be throwing up on Craig right now. He was really trying to concentrate on not choking, but he was feeling extremely aroused, and every time Craig said his name, it was becoming more of an issue not to get caught up in the moment. With a few more needy sucks, he began digging his nails into Craig's hip, as if he could get him to go faster.

**It isn't long before Craig can't take it anymore – what with Stan's digging nails and his caressing hand and his caved in cheeks – and he releases in Stan's mouth. He feels bad for not warning him, but Stan always gives some kind of sarcastic response anyway, so maybe he'll be okay.**

Really, Stan didn't care that Craig released in his mouth, and he swallowed a moment later as he removed himself slowly. He stood up, and hoisted himself on the counter next to Craig as he moved to wrap his arms around Craig in a half-hug, half-koala cuddle, his head against the other's shoulder. "I love you," He said, wondering if Craig would notice he hadn't gotten it off.

**Craig is somewhat surprised when he doesn't see Stan spit before climbing up next to him. The last time he'd assumed the only reason Stan had for not spitting was because they were in his truck. But now, there's even a sink to spit in.**

"**I love you too," he says, bringing up a hand to pet through Stan's hair. He realized that now Stan still hasn't come, and he wonders what he should do about it. Craig is still sore from that time Stan told him no, and he really doesn't want to offer again because of that. But something about Stan – maybe the fact that Craig loves him – makes him ask, "Do you want me to do you, too?"**

"Uh..." Stan accidentally let his apprehension show as he leaned on Craig, his eyes down cast as he thought of their fight and that night with angry lovemaking. Really, he wanted to say yes, but it was tempting to get Craig pissed off again so they could do that..no, that was cruel, he couldn't do that to Craig. "If you don't like it don't do it, I don't care if you want to just jack me off or something...I mean, you can, but I don't want you to do something that you don't like."

**Craig rolls his eyes at Stan's short ramble, even if Stan probably can't see. "Just shut up, I wouldn't offer if I wasn't going to do it," he says. He removes Stan from his arm and pushes him back on the counter, turning him to be laying down on it. He puts himself between Stan's legs and stares down at him, his eyes lingering on Stan's cock for a second before moving up to Stan's eyes. He moves forward to kiss Stan, taking him in hand and giving him a few lazy strokes before pulling away from the kiss. "You sure I'm not going to bite it off?" he asks, a bit of spite still left over from that night. Trying to forget that time completely, he leans down over Stan, moving in close to his destination.**

"Hey-" Stan objected when he was pushed backwards, but immediately quieted as he watched Craig. His heart skipped in his chest as Craig stared him down - goddamnit, why did he have such a damn intense gaze? Tensing up as the other moved in, and shuddering when he stroked him, he wasn't expecting Craig to mention the comment that pissed him off so much. "Um..if you do...I'm probably going to..." He was struggling to find a sarcastic response, but seeing Craig between his legs had him shell shocked. "Um..." He watched the other move closer, frozen in place.

**Craig ignores Stan's broken words in favor of letting his tongue slip out of his mouth. Maneuvering his hand out of the way, he continues to stroke as he runs the flat of his tongue up the bottom of the shaft. He closes his eyes as he seals his lips around the head, giving in a few good sucks before running his tongue back along the shaft. He finally moves back up and starts to take Stan in. He moves his hands to hold down Stan's hips, not wanting to be thrust at. He slowly works Stan into his mouth, sucking him in a bit further with each leisurely bob of his head.**

Stan arched his back slightly, trying to keep himself from getting excited too quickly. It was a failed attempt however, and he found himself clenching his fists to the point of his knuckles turning white. Maybe it was the combination of the cold counter pressed against his bare skin and Craig's warm mouth; or maybe he was really enjoying that it was Craig - _Craig_ on him. With his face beet red and his breathing erratic, he said "Ahhhhh, Cr-Craig...move.." in a vague warning, not even that long into the act.

**Craig falls into a languid pace, letting himself get into it as much as he can. Really, Craig thinks his mouth is the **_**last**_** place a dick should be, but somehow doing it for Stan isn't so bad. When Stan says to 'move,' Craig takes it as meaning to 'move faster' - considering he's being kind of slow - and not as 'move away.' So he hums his acknowledgement and picks up his pace a bit, sucking just a little harder. He smoothes little circles in Stan's hips with the pads of his thumbs, adding a little more stimulant.**

"Bastard," Stan manages to curse as Craig decides to just take it a step further, and it was all he could take. Letting go, he relaxes on the countertop still breathing heavily. Goddamnit, if Craig hated it so much, why didn't he get off? It made Stan feel bad for finding pleasure in releasing in Craig's mouth. Bastard.

**It surprises Craig a little when he feels Stan release in his mouth. He backs of, a little shocked, and turns around to spit in the sink behind him. He wipes his mouth on his arm and turns back to Stan with a bit of a smirk. "That was fast," he says, leaning back over Stan to give him a hard kiss. Is Craig really that good at it that Stan came so fast? Or does Stan just really like him? Yeah, Stan probably just really like him, considering Craig doesn't really put a lot of practice into the act. He moves to kiss Stan's jaw, an affectionate habit he'd formed somewhere along the years.**

"Goddamnit I didn't mean to go that soon," Stan groaned, and in defeat he moved to wrap his arms around Craig, pressing their slightly sweaty bodies together. He felt weak and sluggish now, but he didn't want to tell Craig he wanted to quit. A few minutes after the other kissed his jaw, he said, "Want to do it in the projector booth while a movie is playing?"

**Craig lets out an airy laugh. "Stan, you're so exhausted I don't even think you could make it up the stairs. Lets save that for another day," he says, not even caring that he's laying on Stan. They really should probably get up and leave though. If they stay much longer, they'll probably fall asleep there, and he doesn't want Stan to get fired for breaking in and making a mess everywhere. He makes to get off of Stan and go collect their things or clean up or something. "We should probably actually go home," he says, voicing the summary of his thoughts.**

"No," Stan fought lazily from where he laid down on the counter again, watching Craig actually move off him. Truthfully he was happy Craig said no - it probably would have turned into a homicide with how they competed with one another. He finally moved off the counter and pulled open a cabinet to get the Clorox wipes, and started wiping down the counter and sink. After, he stalked off towards the lobby to get his keys and to trek over to the monitor room. He wondered if Craig would follow, so he unlocked the door and headed in, leaving it open as he ejected all the security tapes - four in total.

**Craig leaves Stan as he wipes down the counter to go get all their stuff together. They actually put thought into coming prepared, and they didn't even fucking use anything. He gathers their scattered, soiled clothing and sets it on the floor near his bag. He empties his back pack, which really only had a few things in it anyway, and stuffs their dirty clothes in it. He leaves their jackets out, though, which somehow managed to not get anything on them. He slips into his clean t-shirt and shorts and then shoves everything back in his bag. He makes sure there's nothing left laying around before he stands and waits for Stan to come back out. Really, Craig is pretty tired, and he wants to sit, but if he sits he doesn't think he'll ever get back up.**

Stan replaced the tapes, but didn't hit record. One of the workers was lazy and frequently forgot to start the monitors, so he figured it would be a good cover up. With a sigh, he grabbed the tapes and walked out, then set them on Craig's bag, and went for his own bag to put on clean clothes. After he put on his shirt, jeans, socks and jacket, he pulled on his hat and zipped up his bag. Slinging it over his shoulder, he looked over at Craig, then approached him and gave him a light kiss on the lips, and then walked to the doors and waited for the other to grab his bag and walk out with him.

**Craig takes the tapes off his bag and puts them inside, zipping it up and standing. He follows Stan to the door He throws his bag over one shoulder and takes Stan's free hand in his. He was going to just head out to the truck, but he decides to wait for Stan to lock up. Then they can go out and decide whose house they're going to.**

Shutting the doors and locking them up behind them was difficult with Craig's hand in his, but he managed somehow. Then he walked out to the truck with the other and popped the driver's side door. "We could just sleep in my truck," he said tiredly, not really wanting to drive all the way home. There was a pull off a minute or so away that people could use to picnic. Letting go of Craig's hand he threw in his bag and then climbed in.

**Craig climbs into the other side of the truck and throws his bag in the small back seat. "I can drive," he says, noticing how absolutely tired Stan looks. Sleeping in the truck actually sounds like a pretty good idea – Craig is pretty tired, too. And why go **_**all the way**__**home**_**, when the truck is right here? "Or we can just stay here, that's okay, too."**

"No, my coworkers would notice the truck," he muttered, and started the truck and swung his door shut. It was sometime in the am, he knew that much, but didn't care to check the time. He drove out to the road, went a few yards and then turned in to the vacant picnic area and parked behind a foresty area. Putting the truck in park, he shut it off and threw the front seat partition up so it connected the front seats, and then he crawled over and cuddled up to Craig, closing his eyes sleepily. "Night."

**Craig doesn't say anything as Stan drives, wondering if Stan is really even seeing anything with how tired he seems. When they stop and Stan curls up next to him, he asks, "Aren't we going to lay down or something?" True they're on the seat of a truck and it might be hard to find a comfortable spot, but laying down would be more comfortable than where Craig is now. "You can sleep on top of me," he says, wanting to be close anyways.**

"Urghhh." Stan grumbled tiredly, and grabbed Craig by the shoulders to put him down on the seat, and then he climbed on top of him and laid down. With his head to the others chest, he mumbled good night again and put a hand on Craig's head, massaging his head as he drifted off.

**Craig can't help but think it's fucking adorable how absolutely wiped Stan is. He lets Stan move him and doesn't even care if he's in a comfortable spot or not. He'll probably have all kind of kinks in the morning in his neck, but he doesn't care. He wraps his arms around Stan's middle and returns the good night, along with a murmured "I love you," before drifting off himself.**


	25. 05 30 2012

05.30.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **craig?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **my day is now extremely shitty.

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Stan Marsh: **kenny messaged me and said he was going to commit suicide

**Stan Marsh: **so I talked him down and now I'm out smoking with christophe because I am seriously this close to just offing myself

**Craig Tucker: **Stan, what the fuck, no

**Stan Marsh: **seriously

**Stan Marsh: **the shit he said

**Craig Tucker: **Well, he's actually IMing me right now

**Craig Tucker: **He wants to smoke

**Stan Marsh: **and I can't be angry with him because ...well, because

**Stan Marsh: **...weed?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **are you going to?

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, I haven't answered him because you told me not to

**Stan Marsh: **you enjoy it, right

**Craig Tucker: **Well yes

**Stan Marsh: **then do it

**Stan Marsh: **I trust you

**Craig Tucker: **Um, so I should go?

**Stan Marsh: **if you want

**Craig Tucker: **Well if you said he's being suicidal, maybe it'll calm him down

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I'll be fine

**Craig Tucker: **Where are you at? If I go over to his place, I'll come see you on the way there

**Stan Marsh: **no, it's cool

**Stan Marsh: **i'm out smoking with Christophe

**Stan Marsh: **he's not really talking

**Stan Marsh: **so it's kind of like smoking at a bus stop but whatever

**Craig Tucker: **Well, okay

**Craig Tucker: **I'm going to tell him I'm coming then

**Stan Marsh: **okay..

**Stan Marsh: **...hey craig

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **damien liked my status

**Craig Tucker: **I saw that

**Craig Tucker: **Ignore him

**Stan Marsh: **uh...craig

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **you remember that one rule you had

**Craig Tucker: **...yes

**Stan Marsh: **well the night after the stars, I really didn't want to like, end up dead so I got this idea that if I was nice to Damien it'd make him get uninterested

**Craig Tucker: **...and

**Stan Marsh: **I took pizza to his apartment

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know, we were going to hang out

**Stan Marsh: **and then I asked him not to kill me, and he like, gave me four options and one was to hug him so I...well

**Stan Marsh: **I gave Damien a bro-hug

**Stan Marsh: **And he threw me out

**Stan Marsh: **Like, he just backed off and told me to leave

**Stan Marsh: **I thought I fixed it but today he liked my status and I'm like...well what the fuck is that

**Stan Marsh: **I haven't said anything, I'm ignoring him

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, I'm not even going to ask why you asked for rules if you weren't going to listen to them anyway

**Craig Tucker: **But yeah, just ignore him.

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know...

**Stan Marsh: **I did it because I was so happy and I love you and I didn't want to die like a week from now

**Stan Marsh: **and have that end

**Craig Tucker: **Well somehow I don't think bringing him pizza is a way to make him leave you alone

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **I thought if I acted nice he would back off

**Stan Marsh: **you're not pissed at me are you?

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Stan Marsh: **I love you

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, I love you too

**Stan Marsh: **I'm sorry for not listening..

**Stan Marsh: **Like

**Stan Marsh: **I was going to ignore him

**Stan Marsh: **and then I talked to Kenny

**Stan Marsh: **and Kenny's all buddy buddy with him

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know what I was thinking anymore..

**Stan Marsh: **okay, go smoke or whatever

**Stan Marsh: **...you don't get like me, do you ?

**Craig Tucker: **No, I'm not, he said not tonight

**Stan Marsh: **like making out with guys

**Craig Tucker: **No, I don't, weed doesn't impair your judgment

**Stan Marsh: **okay...

**Stan Marsh: **...hey craig

**Stan Marsh: **have you told your family about me? besides ruby?

**Craig Tucker: **Not directly, but they won't care so I'm not making a big deal out of it

**Craig Tucker: **Do you want me to?

**Stan Marsh: **I told my mom

**Craig Tucker: **What did she say?

**Stan Marsh: **..nothing

**Craig Tucker: **Is that good or bad?

**Stan Marsh: **no, I was saying nothing to make you feel better..

**Craig Tucker: **Well what did she actually say?

**Stan Marsh: **She asked me how Wendy was and I told her we broke up, and then she asked where I was last night and I said out

**Stan Marsh: **and she said where and I told her I was out with you and she's not happy about that

**Craig Tucker: **Why not? That doesn't even sound like you told her we're dating

**Stan Marsh: **She asked why I was hanging out with you and I said we were dating and she sort of...well

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **she just stopped talking and walked off to do something else

**Craig Tucker: **Is that a lie?

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Craig Tucker: **What did she say?

**Stan Marsh: **She didn't say anything

**Craig Tucker: **So is that good or bad? I don't know your mom

**Stan Marsh: **bad

**Craig Tucker: **Are you okay?

**Stan Marsh: **I'm fine

**Craig Tucker: **Like... does her opinion matter to you?

**Stan Marsh: **well, dude, yeah

**Stan Marsh: **she's my mom

**Craig Tucker: **Um

**Craig Tucker: **What are you going to do

**Stan Marsh: **what do you mean?

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, don't you have to make her happy or something

**Stan Marsh: **maybe if you just...hang around my house

**Stan Marsh: **she'll get used to you

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **Is that really a good idea?

**Stan Marsh: **...why would it be a bad idea

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, yeah, I'll come hang around

**Stan Marsh: **My mom is nice, she's just..I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **I think she thinks you're a bad influence on kids

**Craig Tucker: **Stan, _every_ parent thinks that

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah

**Craig Tucker: **_You_ thought that, except instead of parent "bad influence" terms, you said "asshole"

**Craig Tucker: **I just have that effect, I guess

**Stan Marsh: **I guess...

**Stan Marsh: **well

**Stan Marsh: **you are kind of an asshole

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Craig Tucker: **And parents don't like me

**Craig Tucker: **Never have

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah.

**Craig Tucker: **Well I don't know, Tweek's parents liked me, so maybe you're right

**Craig Tucker: **I should just come around more

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah

**Stan Marsh: **and my dog likes you, so how far off is my mom anyways

**Craig Tucker: **Did you just compare your mom to your dog?

**Stan Marsh: **maybe.

**Craig Tucker: **Are you sure you're okay?

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah I'm fine

**Craig Tucker: **Okay

**Stan Marsh: **did kenny say anything to you about suicide or does he save that for me?

**Craig Tucker: **No, he's talking about something else

**Stan Marsh: **like what?

**Craig Tucker: **It's just... _sad_

**Craig Tucker: **Like intensely sad

**Stan Marsh: **...like what is he talking about

**Craig Tucker: **How he doesn't want to see me

**Craig Tucker: **And I asked him why

**Craig Tucker: **and it's taking a really long time for him to respond

**Stan Marsh: **...did you really need to ask why

**Craig Tucker: **He's the one that wanted to smoke with me, and then when I told him I would he suddenly doesn't want to see me

**Craig Tucker: **Excuse the fuck out of me for asking

**Stan Marsh: **He still likes you

**Stan Marsh: **that's why he spent an evening at my house talking to me about you

**Craig Tucker: **...well he liked me before he and I got together and he hung out with me still

**Stan Marsh: **I guess now that the jock who has everything is dating you, he's not going to be as accepting

**Craig Tucker: **What the fuck

**Craig Tucker: **He can't be this upset about it forever

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **he told me he was jealous of me because I'm dating you, and because I get to be happy, and because I'm a star, and everyone loves me, and I get to eat every day and I make out with everyone and I'm an athlete and I'm great at everything

**Stan Marsh: **I mean, I'm flattered

**Stan Marsh: **but the most accurate thing in there is athlete

**Stan Marsh: **and that's about it

**Stan Marsh: **I mean, I eat every day but so does 90% of south park

**Stan Marsh: **and I'm dating you, yeah

**Craig Tucker: **Look, we can't beat ourselves up over this all the time

**Craig Tucker: **Kenny is my bro and everything, but he's the one that broke up with me

**Craig Tucker: **If I started dating someone else, that's okay

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not saying he can't be sad

**Craig Tucker: **Because I'd be sad too

**Craig Tucker: **But he can't keep making you feel like shit about it

**Craig Tucker: **Especially when you're helping him

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Stan Marsh: **I feel like hell

**Craig Tucker: **I'm sorry

**Craig Tucker: **He still hasn't responded

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **Uh hey Craig, I fell asleep on the keyboard. Sorry

**Craig Tucker: **That's okay

**Stan Marsh: **I think I'm going to go to bed...love you

**Craig Tucker: **Love you too


	26. 05 31 2012

05.31.2012

* * *

**Craig Tucker: **Hey Stan

**Stan Marsh: **hey.

**Craig Tucker: **I'm going over to Kenny's today, just thought I'd let you know

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah.

**Stan Marsh: **have fun with that.

**Craig Tucker: **You okay?

**Stan Marsh: **no.

**Craig Tucker: **Oh, um, what's wrong?

**Craig Tucker: **If it's Kenny, I've been telling him I'll make time for him for like a week now, and I don't want to blow him off again

**Stan Marsh: **good guess

**Craig Tucker: **...do you not want me to go? Because I don't think I could choose between you and Kenny

**Craig Tucker: **I mean happiness wise

**Craig Tucker: **I can't let you both feel shitty

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **don't

**Stan Marsh: **just fucking go

**Stan Marsh: **ignore me

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not going to fucking ignore you, I love you

**Craig Tucker: **So tell me what I can fucking do

**Stan Marsh: **you can't do anything right now, I'm just fucking pissed off

**Stan Marsh: **that's it

**Craig Tucker: **At what?

**Stan Marsh: **at myself

**Craig Tucker: **For?

**Craig Tucker: **Look, I have an hour before I told Kenny I'd come over. I was going to do some homework, but I can just come talk to you or something

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to see anyone right now, ok

**Craig Tucker: **Well what if I want to see you

**Stan Marsh: **I just don't want to talk about it

**Stan Marsh: **I want to sit here

**Stan Marsh: **smoke my cigarette

**Stan Marsh: **throw it on the bed, kill myself in a bedfire

**Stan Marsh: **and then just die peacefully okay

**Craig Tucker: **Fuck you, okay

**Stan Marsh: **Okay

**Stan Marsh: **that's fine

**Craig Tucker: **Don't fucking say shit like that

**Stan Marsh: **that's all I fucking hear every day from Kenny

**Stan Marsh: **I guess it's catching

**Craig Tucker: **Don't let it be fucking catching

**Craig Tucker: **There's nothing wrong with you, you just catch a lot of shit

**Craig Tucker: **So I'm going to come see you, and then go talk to Kenny and see if I can get him to calm the fuck down

**Craig Tucker: **And then hopefully it won't be as bad

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Craig Tucker: **No to what fucking part

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to see anyone right now, I want to be alone

**Craig Tucker: **Fine.

**Stan Marsh: **those tapes are fine at your house right

**Stan Marsh: **because I don't want them over here

**Stan Marsh: **my dad would probably pop them in to see what movies they were

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, they're fine

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **I kind of want you to just hold me for the next five hours

**Stan Marsh: **or all night

**Stan Marsh: **but you need to work things out with kenny so whatever

**Stan Marsh: **i don't want you to have to choose

**Craig Tucker: **Well I'll come over and see you for a while, then go make sure he's okay, then come back

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Craig Tucker: **I'll come over now, then

**Stan Marsh: **if you want

**Craig Tucker: **I do

**Stan Marsh: **you don't have to

**Stan Marsh: **I won't be pissed if you don't

**Craig Tucker: **I'm coming over, I want to see you before I go see Kenny

**Stan Marsh: **ok

**Stan Marsh: **my mom is downstairs

**Stan Marsh: **so um

**Stan Marsh: **I guess good luck getting past her without her noticing

**Craig Tucker: **I'll be _pleasant_

**Craig Tucker: **And she'll let me past

**Stan Marsh: **yeah..just don't get kicked out

**Craig Tucker: **I won't

**Craig Tucker: **I'm leaving

**Stan Marsh: **okay

* * *

**Craig gets what he needs before heading out of his house. He's a little annoyed that he's leaving his homework, but he doesn't actually care. He didn't want to do it anyway, and Stan is more important. He makes his way out to his car and makes the quick drive to Stan's house.**

**When he gets there, he's already got his hand on the knob to just walk inside, but then he remembers that Stan had said his mom was downstairs. Maybe it would be a good thing to knock, since she apparently already doesn't like Craig even though they've never met.**

**That kind of pisses him off – the fact that every parent assumes he's a "bad influence." That's what all the fucking parents think. Why do they even think that? Craig doesn't do anything that bad, especially not publicly. Ugh, whatever, he doesn't care. He just has to make her like him, right?**

**He knocks and waits for someone to answer.**

_The door opened after a few minutes had passed; but it was Stan's mother, Sharon. She looked at Craig with a brow raised, and then opened the screen door, but didn't invite him inside._

_"Hi, you must be Craig. Stan told me to tell his friends he's not feeling well right now, do you want me to give him a message?"_

**Craig stares up at her, giving the most sincere smile he can manage. He feels extremely fake, though. In reality, his blood is running cold with the amount of anger he's starting to feel. Stan's 'friends.' She's ignoring the fact that Craig is the boyfriend and not a friend. He already hates her.**

"**Hey, yeah, I'm Craig," he says, maintaining his kind disposition. He thinks he should shake her hand or something, but that's more of a thing you do with dads. "I'm actually not going to be here long, I have somewhere else to be. But Stan said he needed me for something, so may I come in?"**

**It's taking all of his energy not to just push her out of the way. He doesn't take shit from people, and honestly, if Stan hadn't said her opinion mattered, he **_**would**_** push her out of the way. He'd do it to his own parents, too, if they fucking disregarded Stan like that.**

_"I suppose," Sharon said, opening up the door so Craig could walk in. She hadn't made any distinct expression the entire time, so it was difficult to tell if she was feeling anything at all. Truthfully, she wasn't happy to see Craig, but she wasn't exactly angry to see him either. _

_"You might want to bring him the kleenex, it's in the bathroom. He always forgets it."_

_It was more of a 'you should know to do this' comment then a suggestion, and it came off a bit like a warning._

"**Thank you," he says, stepping inside the house. He considers staying downstairs and chatting for a minute to try and make more of an impression, but she's already pissing him off this much so he really shouldn't. He nods his thanks to her one more time for letting him in before heading up the stairs. What a bitch.**

**He stops in the bathroom on the way to Stan's room, though, because he figures she meant something by the Kleenex comment. When he opens Stan's door, he sees him face down in his pillows. Why is he face down? "You okay?" he asks, shutting the door and making his way over to sit on the edge of the mattress beside Stan. He sets the tissues next to him and puts a hand on Stan's back, letting him know he's there.**

_Sharon watches Craig go up the steps as she shut the door, and then walked off to the kitchen._

As Craig opened the door, Stan glared into his pillow, but didn't move his head. He really had hoped Craig would just move on to Kenny's place and not come over to ask him about what was wrong. Kyle didn't get it, no one got it, he was alone and miserable.

"Fine." He said sarcastically, muffled by the pillow. If he turned, Craig totally could see he had been crying, and he didn't want him to look at him. It was embarrassing.

**Thinking for a second, Craig moves himself to be laying on top of Stan. He lays exactly on Stan's back, tucking his arms in on either side of Stan in a weird kind of hug, his legs laying on Stan's. The only part of him that isn't on Stan is his head, which he'd laid next to Stan. If nothing else, it would make Stan laugh because it's kind on an awkward thing to be doing. But really, Craig just wants a hug after dealing with Stan's mom. She hadn't really done a lot, but it had been enough to royally piss Craig off and make him need confirmation that Stan wants him. And whatever's bothering Stan, he probably needs a hug too. So whatever, Craig will do it this way since Stan apparently doesn't want to move.**

"**Better?" he asks, trying to sound more happy to be with Stan instead of pissed after dealing with his mother.**

Stan turned his head to the side, his brows knitting together as he felt Craig...what, hug-top him? What the hell was he doing? It did make Stan smile, though, and he tried not to move his face in a way Craig could see him from the top - but he did want to talk, so it was necessary to un-muffle his voice.

"Yeah. You make a great blanket." Stan said apathetically, and then sighed as he snuggled down in his bed, not fighting. His voice sounded a bit strange from crying, but he was trying to cover it up. Then he realized that there was a box of kleenex nearby him. Goddamnit, how did he know?

"Ugh...damnit, Craig."

"**I'm glad my blanket skills can be of good use. I practice," he says, his efforts in not being pissy coming out in sarcasm. It's not mean sarcasm, though, more humored. Though, when Stan curses, Craig frowns again. "What?" he asks, wondering what he'd done.**

"How did you know I was crying. Goddamnit, why do you know me so well." Stan didn't know that his mother had given Craig's a heads up- instead, he took it as intuition or keen observation skills.

"I don't care if you hang out with Kenny...I'm just pissed off. I'm pissed off that he's so depressed and I can't do a goddamn thing because I'm depressed and together we just make this huge mass of depression and it's depressing me and I just want to curl up and die. I don't care if I'm not supposed to say it, I'm miserable."

**Craig doesn't say anything for a minute, just listening to Stan's almost raw voice. He tightens his arms a bit on Stan's sides in an attempt to hold him closer, even though they're already as close as they can be. "You shouldn't want to die…" he says quietly, now more just sad than pissed. He doesn't want a suicidal Kenny and a suicidal Stan. Craig might just have to lock himself up in his room for a while if all he gets is talk of death.**

**He moves his head to where Stan had turned his face and just kind of presses his lips to Stan's forehead, letting them linger there. He doesn't want Stan to actually be this depressed. It sucks.**

Stan heaved another heavy sigh, and reached underneath him to find Craig's hand. Gripping the other's fingers gently, he closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being hugged.

"I don't want to die...just sometimes. Like...the times when you're not here, I want to die sort of, but I won't, okay."

He rubbed the other's hand soothingly, his eyes still closed.

**Craig removes himself from Stan's forehead and shuffles a bit down Stan's body so he can lay his head on Stan's back. He feels Stan caressing his hand and he just sighs tiredly.**

…**wait. Stan just pretty much said that Craig is the only thing he lives for. What the fuck, that's not even possible. Stan has so much more than just Craig, he's sure. Because if not, that's… pretty fucking intense.**

"**You better not, because I'll kick your ass if you leave me with a corpse," he mumbles. It's supposed to be encouragement to live, but he's not sure how it'll come across.**

"I'm never going to leave you," Stan said before he could stop himself, but once it was out, he sighed again heavily and thought about the way Craig's body felt against his. He was still sore from the night before last, to the point he was covered with anti-pain cream and had taken some medication, but he really didn't care.

"I'm sorry...I'm just...Kenny, he just keeps telling me he's going to commit suicide and die and all these ways and I can't do a damn thing about it and I keep making it worse and then he says he doesn't want to be friends but not really..it's so confusing..and I just want to be a good friend again."

**Craig actually feels himself heat up a little at Stan's first comment. That hadn't quite been what Craig had meant, but it's… nice to hear.**

"**I'm, um, I'm sure Kenny will come around eventually. It'll just take some time. Really, I'm not that special; he'll find someone better and move on. Just give it time," he says. He's sure it's true. He's just not sure how far off 'eventually' is. Hopefully going over there today will help.**

"Eh...I think I fucked my relationship with Kenny when I let him blow me in the back of my truck," Stan muttered crossly, knowing it was true. That was the can of worms, technically - everything had been weird after that. He really missed hanging out with Kenny - besides Kyle, Kenny had always been there for him, and it was really hard to have him be there but be miserable.

"I don't think it's repairing itself anytime soon, dude...just...let's just not talk. I guess...just hug me until you leave and then come back. ...but try not to like, get caught, my mom will throw you out if she smells pot or something. My dad probably won't give a shit, but my mom will."

"**I'll spray Axe or something, it'll be okay," he says absently. Really, the smell of pot doesn't stick like cigarette smoke does. But he'll spray anyway, just to makes Stan sleep easier. He just continues to hug onto Stan and doesn't say anything more.**

**He stays quiet until it feels like forever has passed. Craig turns his head to look at Stan's alarm clock and notices that it's been almost exactly an hour. "Hey Stan? I have to go now. But I'll be back as soon as I can, okay?" he says tiredly. He's still frustrated and a little upset about all the talk of death, but more just tired. Tired of everything. He starts to get off Stan. Expecting the other to sit up as well so they can say good bye.**

After the hour had passed, he slowly moved once Craig did to sit up and give him a hug. He did pause though, and after a moment he said, "Hey Craig...?" He wanted to ask him something, and it had been on his mind for a couple of days.

"Can I ask you to do something for me?"

**Craig returns Stan's hug and pulls back with an interested brow. "What is it?" he asks, wondering why Stan sounds hesitant to ask. He wonders if Stan has figured out yet that Craig does virtually everything Stan asks every damned time.**

Stan stared at Craig for a minute, looking rather apprehensive. Then he finally spoke, and he used a very monotone voice. "...like, the next time we do it, can you promise never to forget the lube even if I ask to forget it, because I think you put my ass out of commission for at least a week. I mean, I love you and all, but it hurt. A lot. It's okay then..but...just, not again, okay?"

**Craig gives an awkward little half smile and a not quite nervous laugh. He rubs the back of his neck and says, "Um, I told you it would hurt… But yeah, never again," he agrees. It actually freaks him out a little that Stan is actually admitting to being hurt by that. That's one of Craig's worst fears in this relationship, ever since Stan cried that one time. "But, I'm going to go, okay?" he says, leaning forward to give Stan a kiss. "I'm sorry I hurt you," he says sincerely, before pulling away from him and standing up to leave.**

"Well, I didn't say I hated it, I just...it was a lot. Umn...yeah, go," He said with a frown, not wanting to elaborate. Craig already thought he was a freak, he wasn't going to get into that too. He fell back on his side, his head on his pillow as he watched Craig go.

**Craig gives Stan a wave as he turns toward the door. "Yeah, I'll try not to take too long; love you," he says, purposefully ignoring Stan's comment. He figures it's not really something Stan wants to get into, and probably not going to be a short conversation. And being late on going to see Kenny would be bad.**

* * *

**Craig wanders back into Stan's house, hoping to God that no one is downstairs this time. He gets lucky and makes his way into Stan's room, being as quiet as possible. He's as high as a fucking kite, though, so he's not sure how quiet he's actually being.**

"**Stann," he whispers dramatically, snickering a bit because why the fuck is he being quiet? He quickly approaches Stan's bed and al but pounces on it, curling up next to Stan. "I missed you," he says in that same loud whisper, giving Stan what's probably a sour kiss. He probably tastes highly of weed, and if you don't smoke it's not always pleasant. After a moment, he says, "Oh my God why do you smell like pizza? Do you have pizza?" he asks, suddenly craving a slice. And some orange juice. He really wants some fucking orange juice.**

Stan had curled up on his bed in his clothes, and he even left his shoes on. His eyes were closed when Craig entered, and when the other approached his bed, he furrowed his brow as he felt the other pounce on it. He was really dreading this whole interaction - he hadn't ever seen Craig high since they were dating. He was positive that Craig showed up high to school probably a few times, or maybe saw him out somewhere when he was totally soaring through the sky, but he hadn't ever loved someone who smoked pot.

When he planted a kiss on his mouth, he had to keep himself from gagging. He couldn't suppress the, "Ugh," after it though, and he opened his eyes and narrowed them as he looked at Craig. When he asked about pizza, he frowned, not wanting to tell him why he smelled like pizza. "Ughhhh...do you want me to go get you something from the fridge," He asked, reaching out to run his hand through Craig's hair. Even if he was pissed, his Craig was back and he really wanted him there - high or not.

**Craig leans into Stan's touch, loving the feel of Stan's finger in his hair. They just feel really good, okay? "No, don't fucking leave, I want you right here," he says, pulling Stan into a tight hug. "I missed you," he says again, not really realizing he'd already said it. He just talks a lot when he's high, and sometimes repeats himself. He closes his eyes and hums happily as Stan continues to play with his hair. He really likes that Stan likes playing with his hair.**

"Ughhhnnn, you smell like axe..." Stan moaned, a bit pitifully as he was pulled into a tight hug by the other. It didn't really bother him that Craig smelled like pot, because sometimes Kenny did when he came to school, but really, why did they both have to have addictions that made them act...weird? He wasn't complaining though, he was getting the hug that he wanted. Absentmindedly massaging the other's scalp, he sighed again, still looking at Craig's face. He was kind of adorable like this. And the way he was reacting to him playing with his hair, it reminded him of a puppy. Stan fucking loves puppies.

"You're cute." He commented idly, and then shut his eyes, still rubbing the other's head.

"**Heyy, I'm always cute," Craig says, his lips turning into a bit of a frown. He quickly forgets about it and moves on, though, looking to Stan's face. "Mm, you're cute too," he says, leaning towards Stan's face to touch their noses together. He nuzzles Stan and closes his eyes with a content smile on his face. The only thing that would make this any better would be a fucking bucket of… of food. Of McDonald's fries. "I love you," he says, leaning in to peck Stan on the lips again.**

**Goddamn, it's been way too long since Craig has been high. Everything just feels so perfect, and nothing seems to matter quite as much. What's so bad about their lives, anyway? Everything seems pretty damned good right now. Come on, he's god a fucking cute boyfriend that he loves; what the fuck else matters?**

"Yeah, I guess." Stan murmurs, feeling the other brush their noses together in an eskimo kiss. Well, that was weird, but still, it was sort of nice. And when he nuzzled him, Stan smiled, still thinking of how he acted like a lovable puppy. Why wasn't he like this when not high - then he could enjoy how their kisses didn't taste like crap. "I love you too, Craig. But really, it's late, and I'm tired...so just hug me and go to sleep and I'll like, make you something in the morning before school, okay."

He rubbed Craig's head a little faster to ruffle it for a moment like he would on a dog's back, but then went back to massaging delicately with his fingers. "Get some sleep."

**Craig just hums his agreement and hugs Stan close. "Yeah… 'm tired," he mumbles, letting his eyes flutter shut. What a fucking perfect ending to a day. Laying in Stan's bed with Stan in his arms and… Stan. "I love you so much, dude," he says. His brain feels like it's floating on air, and it's making him really sleepy now that Stan mentioned being tired. He settles comfortably into the mattress, his head on Stan's pillow. He wants to pull the blankets up over them and just curl up under them and sleep forever with Stan pressed up against his chest. But he's way too lazy to even try to reach for the blankets. He's too tired.**

Stan sat up after a few minutes, and then reached down to pull the covers up over Craig. He was still dressed, so he slowly took off his shirt, and then tossed his shoes on the floor as well as his pants, and then he curled up next to Craig, returning his hand to the other's head as he massaged his scalp until he drifted to sleep.

"**Welcome back," Craig mutters, winding his arms back around Stan again. He's so warm under the blankets and so comfy next to Stan. So fucking comfortable. It's like he's never laid in a bed before now, and Stan's body just feels like it fits perfectly in his arms. He makes another content noise and buries his nose down in the top of Stan's hair. "Night," he says, feeling himself start to drift.**


	27. 06 01 2012

06.01.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh:** Craig?

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah?

**Stan Marsh:** I'm going to Denver after work, I want my truck when we're there

**Stan Marsh:** Want to go with me?

**Craig Tucker:** What are you doing in Denver?

**Craig Tucker:** And yeah, sure

**Stan Marsh:** Craig?

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah?

**Stan Marsh:** hey, I'm on my laptop now. I don't think my phone was getting your responses.

**Stan Marsh:** so do you want to go to denver with me?

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, but why are we going to denver?

**Stan Marsh:** dude, Garrison's trip

**Craig Tucker:** Oh yeah

**Craig Tucker:** Is that today?

**Stan Marsh:** Yeah

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, I'll go with you

**Craig Tucker:** I juts have to pack some stuff

**Stan Marsh:** okay

**Stan Marsh:** I don't really want to go

**Craig Tucker:** But you need to pass for sports and stuff

**Stan Marsh:** yeah, well

**Stan Marsh:** fuck sports

**Stan Marsh:** I don't really care

**Craig Tucker:** Stan

**Craig Tucker:** Since when do you not care

**Craig Tucker:** Why don't you want to go? All you have to do is walk around a boring ass building for a few days and you pass

**Craig Tucker:** you don't even have to do anything

**Stan Marsh:** because I don't want to go

**Stan Marsh:** I'm waiting for Garrison to tell us if we're still going, maybe he cancelled

**Craig Tucker:** why don't you want to go?

**Stan Marsh:** ...I hate garrison

**Craig Tucker:** what the fuck did he do this time?

**Stan Marsh:** He posted the assignment

**Stan Marsh:** he paired me with wendy for going around the city and for the assignment

**Stan Marsh:** not to mention he...well

**Stan Marsh:** nevermind

**Stan Marsh:** I don't want to mention that right now

**Craig Tucker:** Well fuck

**Craig Tucker:** That sucks

**Craig Tucker:** A lot

**Stan Marsh:** he put you with Kyle and Kenny

**Craig Tucker:** I saw that, what the fuck

**Craig Tucker:** Why does he care who we walk around with?

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know

**Craig Tucker:** What else did he do?

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know

**Stan Marsh:** ugh

**Stan Marsh:** I'm not going

**Craig Tucker:** If you're not going then I'll stay home too because I really don't give a shit about that class and I was only really going to stay with you

**Stan Marsh:** okay

**Stan Marsh:** let's skip

**Craig Tucker:** Are you sure? I don't know if avoiding Wendy is worth giving up your football

**Craig Tucker:** but then again

**Craig Tucker:** it's your decision

**Stan Marsh:** I'm not going to live long enough to get a scholarship

**Stan Marsh:** so it's nbd

**Craig Tucker:** Why not?

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know

**Stan Marsh:** it's just a feeling

**Craig Tucker:** That's bullshit

**Craig Tucker:** Why?

**Stan Marsh:** I pissed off Damien when you were getting high

**Stan Marsh:** okay

**Stan Marsh:** I'll go if Garrison says Damien's not coming

**Stan Marsh:** he put it on the assignment but I don't trust him

**Stan Marsh:** ...well

**Stan Marsh:** damn

**Stan Marsh:** I don't trust him

**Stan Marsh:** can you ask garrison if damien is going?

**Craig Tucker:** Why would Damien go if he never attends class anyway?

**Craig Tucker:** And what did you do?

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know

**Stan Marsh:** uh

**Stan Marsh:** I pissed him off

**Stan Marsh:** I might have told him to eat rat poison

**Stan Marsh:** he asked for another fucking pizza at like 12 at night what the hell was I supposed to do

**Craig Tucker:** Ugh, you're supposed to not talk to him at all

**Craig Tucker:** Do you want me to just talk to him?

**Craig Tucker:** I won't hit him.

**Stan Marsh:** ...I asked Garrison to talk to him last night

**Stan Marsh:** and he told me I was going to die

**Stan Marsh:** So he suggested I give Damien a pizza, so I made him one.

**Stan Marsh:** and I dropped it off at his apartment

**Stan Marsh:** like, literally, he was waiting in the hall, and I dropped it and ran

**Craig Tucker:** That's why you smelled like pizza?

**Stan Marsh:** yeah..

**Craig Tucker:** Well, he didn't touch you, right?

**Craig Tucker:** And he asked for the pizza

**Stan Marsh:** ...yeah, he didn't touch me

**Craig Tucker:** so maybe he likes your food

**Stan Marsh:** ...uh

**Stan Marsh:** I guess

**Craig Tucker:** So he probably won't kill you

**Stan Marsh:** dude, how do you come to that conclusion

**Craig Tucker:** He didn't even touch you when you dropped off the pizza

**Stan Marsh:** A pizza does not remove a death threat

**Stan Marsh:** He said he was going to do it later

**Stan Marsh:** kill me, I guess

**Craig Tucker:** Okay, I'm going to talk to him

**Stan Marsh:** Don't

**Stan Marsh:** I don't want you to like..

**Stan Marsh:** die

**Craig Tucker:** I'm seriously just going to talk

**Stan Marsh:** on im?

**Craig Tucker:** Sure

**Stan Marsh:** ...what'd he say

**Craig Tucker:** I'm not done talking to him yet.

**Stan Marsh:** ...how about now?

**Craig Tucker:** He says if you make him food whenever he wants, he can work out some kind of deal

**Stan Marsh:** ...what

**Craig Tucker:** What the fuck, that's all he wants

**Stan Marsh:** Are you serious

**Stan Marsh:** I'm not becoming his personal chef for life, okay

**Craig Tucker:** Well I wouldn't either, but he says he'll keep you alive for food

**Stan Marsh:** ...what

**Stan Marsh:** I'm telling him no

**Stan Marsh:** that's bullshit

**Craig Tucker:** Let me fucking talk to him, Christ

**Stan Marsh:** okay

**Craig Tucker:** He says you just have to cook for him once a week

**Craig Tucker:** "maybe more"

**Stan Marsh:** ...

**Stan Marsh:** No

**Craig Tucker:** I'm trying, Stan, and this is as good as he's going to get

**Craig Tucker:** He's pissing me off

**Craig Tucker:** I'll go with you when you see him

**Craig Tucker:** Just stay the fuck alive

**Stan Marsh:** ugh

**Craig Tucker:** Maybe you don't even have to cook, just deliver

**Stan Marsh:** I don't want to

**Craig Tucker:** Well I don't want you to die, so if I can't make this asshole happy then I'm just going to go kill him somehow

**Stan Marsh:** dude no

**Stan Marsh:** don't die

**Stan Marsh:** Can I just talk to him

**Stan Marsh:** I could probably fix it

**Craig Tucker:** I _am_ fixing it

**Stan Marsh:** Craig, I'm not making him food every week

**Stan Marsh:** That's creepy

**Craig Tucker:** And dying isn't?

**Craig Tucker:** I said I'd go with you

**Stan Marsh:** No

**Stan Marsh:** I don't want to do it

**Craig Tucker:** ugh...

**Craig Tucker:** Then what am I supposed to offer him?

**Stan Marsh:** ...I don't know

**Stan Marsh:** an apology?

**Craig Tucker:** That's obviously not going to work

**Craig Tucker:** I'm sure you've already apologized

**Stan Marsh:** yeah..

**Craig Tucker:** It's just once a week, we can do it together okay?

**Stan Marsh:** No

**Craig Tucker:** I don't want him to fucking kill you

**Stan Marsh:** I'm not making him food ever

**Craig Tucker:** Fine.

**Stan Marsh: **...fine?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah.

**Craig Tucker: **I'll fix it.

**Stan Marsh: **...how

**Craig Tucker: **It doesn't matter, just don't talk to him anymore

**Stan Marsh: **...you're going to get yourself killed

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **fine

**Stan Marsh: **I'll make food

**Stan Marsh: **I won't be happy

**Stan Marsh: **I'm going to spit in it

**Stan Marsh: **but I'll make fucking food

**Craig Tucker: **No, I'm not going to get killed

**Craig Tucker: **it's fine

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **I'll do it

**Stan Marsh: **just don't die

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not going to die

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Stan Marsh: **what else does he want

**Craig Tucker: **nothing, don't worry about it

**Craig Tucker: **You're safe

**Stan Marsh: **...are you sure

**Craig Tucker: **Yes

**Craig Tucker: **So are you going on the trip now?

**Stan Marsh: **...is he going

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **I'll go

**Craig Tucker: **Alright, let me pack my stuff back up.

**Stan Marsh: **you unpacked?

**Stan Marsh: **I just kept my shit on my bed..

**Stan Marsh: **I asked my mom to take care of Mellow while I'm gone

**Craig Tucker: **That's a god idea, she's pregnant after all

**Stan Marsh: **my mom really likes her

**Craig Tucker: **That's good

**Stan Marsh: **...craig?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **...what deal did you work out with him

**Craig Tucker: **I'm just going to bring him food like he asked

**Stan Marsh: **we leave in like thirty, ok

**Stan Marsh: **I might be a little late

**Stan Marsh: **my mom is giving me a hard time

**Craig Tucker: **Alright

**Stan Marsh: **she said something about you

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **she said

**Stan Marsh: **That last night, you were really nice

**Stan Marsh: **Like, she's still pissed probably because she liked Wendy but I think she might like you, I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **Well that's good

**Craig Tucker: **People tend to figure out I'm not a giant raging dick after they actually talk to me for three seconds

**Craig Tucker: **So it's good to know she approves

**Stan Marsh: **haha...

**Stan Marsh: **I love you

**Craig Tucker: **I love you too

**Stan Marsh: **I really want to hug you right now

**Stan Marsh: **I'm going to leave after I wash the dishes

**Craig Tucker: **Okay

**Stan Marsh: **hey craig

**Stan Marsh: **www dot youtube dot com/watch?v=0tFaQYSFLuE

**Stan Marsh: **I'll actually watch that with you haha

**Craig Tucker: **Looks fun

**Craig Tucker: **We can see it, if you want to

**Stan Marsh: **...uh

**Stan Marsh: **what's up?

**Stan Marsh: **you're like, oddly quiet and dismissive

**Craig Tucker: **Sorry, just a little distracted

**Stan Marsh: **...by what

**Craig Tucker: **I dunno, just am

**Craig Tucker: **Maybe I'm tired

**Stan Marsh: **...what did damien say

**Craig Tucker: **Nothing

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **you're lying

**Stan Marsh: **What is the arrangement

**Craig Tucker: **That I'll bring him food.

**Stan Marsh: **When?

**Craig Tucker: **Whenever he wants me to.

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **How are you going to do that

**Stan Marsh: **you don't cook do you?

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Craig Tucker: **But I can buy food

**Stan Marsh: **you don't have that sort of money

**Craig Tucker: **I just won't get the apartment, it's fine. You didn't want me to move anyway

**Stan Marsh: **what

**Stan Marsh: **you wanted that apartment

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Stan Marsh: **okay, let me do the food thing, okay

**Stan Marsh: **I can bake

**Stan Marsh: **It's less expensive to make stuff from scratch

**Craig Tucker: **No, you're out of it now

**Craig Tucker: **He's not going to kill you

**Craig Tucker: **or talk to you

**Craig Tucker: **you're fine

**Stan Marsh: **no.

**Stan Marsh: **you're not doing that craig

**Stan Marsh: **this is my problem

**Craig Tucker: **I already did

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Craig Tucker: **It's not your problem anymore

**Craig Tucker: **So don't worry about it

**Stan Marsh: **Craig

**Stan Marsh: **I am so pissed off right now

**Stan Marsh: **I can't even think

**Craig Tucker: **It's fine, just work on fixing your other stuff

**Stan Marsh: **I can't believe you did that

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Craig Tucker: **It's not a big deal

**Craig Tucker: **It's just food

**Stan Marsh: **you told me you were just talking to him

**Stan Marsh: **you didn't tell me you were going to completely fucking get yourself into my trouble

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, I was. And I also told you I was making a deal with him

**Stan Marsh: **I can't talk to you right now.

**Craig Tucker: **And I fixed it

**Craig Tucker: **Alright

**Craig Tucker: **I'm ready, so you can come get me whenever you're leaving for the trip

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not going to pick you up

**Craig Tucker: **Then I'll drive myself

**Stan Marsh: **okay, whatever

**Craig Tucker: **See you in Denver, I guess

**Stan Marsh: **I'm getting another room

**Craig Tucker: **...okay

**Stan Marsh: **I can't believe you went behind my back and did something like this

**Craig Tucker: **I didn't go behind your back

**Stan Marsh: **you did

**Craig Tucker: **I told you I was fixing it

**Craig Tucker: **And I did

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not okay with this

**Stan Marsh: **Unfix it

**Stan Marsh: **your way fucking sucks

**Craig Tucker: **Why does it suck? No one is getting hurt, and all I have to di is bring him food

**Craig Tucker: **It's not that bad

**Stan Marsh: **I'd rather him kill me then him calling us mid fucking sex and demanding food

**Craig Tucker: **Then I won't answer

**Stan Marsh: **and then you'll die

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not okay with this craig

**Craig Tucker: **It's fine, Stan

**Craig Tucker: **Token is helping me

**Stan Marsh: **how?

**Craig Tucker: **Fuck if I know; he's got money and contacts

**Craig Tucker: **And he's letting me take food from his kitchen

**Stan Marsh: **what?

**Craig Tucker: **What do you mean what?

**Craig Tucker: **When damien wants food, I'm going to go pick it up from token's chefs and take it to him

**Stan Marsh: **...oh

**Stan Marsh: **...but you're going alone to see Damien

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want that

**Craig Tucker: **Well I don't want him seeing you after you refused his deal

**Craig Tucker: **no

**Stan Marsh: **what

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Stan Marsh: **you're taking me

**Craig Tucker: **no

**Stan Marsh: **yes

**Craig Tucker: **Why? He's not going to hurt me

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Stan Marsh: **I don't fucking trust him

**Stan Marsh: **you're not going alone

**Craig Tucker: **Fine. Then pick someone to go with me because it's not going to be you

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not letting you go alone

**Craig Tucker: **Then fucking pick someone to go with me, I just said that

**Craig Tucker: **but you're not going

**Stan Marsh: **I hate you so much right now

**Craig Tucker: **Sorry.

**Stan Marsh: **why do you do this

**Craig Tucker: **Because I love you and I don't want you to die

**Stan Marsh: **but I love you and I don't want you to die

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not going to die

**Craig Tucker: **I'm just giving him what he wants

**Stan Marsh: **you sleep like a rock

**Stan Marsh: **you're going to sleep through your phone one night

**Craig Tucker: **I'll keep it on my pillow or something

**Stan Marsh: **you'll still sleep through it

**Craig Tucker: **No I won't

**Stan Marsh: **you will

**Stan Marsh: **you slept through me doing a lot of stuff in your room

**Craig Tucker: **What did you do in my room?

**Stan Marsh: **I did like fifty situps one morning and you had no idea

**Stan Marsh: **you just kept sleeping

**Stan Marsh: **and I'm pretty sure I knocked something over at some point and you just kept sleeping

**Stan Marsh: **you sleep like a fucking rock, craig

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, well not if something touches me

**Craig Tucker: **I'll just put the phone on vibrate and keep it on my person

**Stan Marsh: **and then one night it'll fall out of your pocket

**Stan Marsh: **on the floor

**Stan Marsh: **and you'll die

**Craig Tucker: **Stan, I'm not going to die

**Craig Tucker: **I'll buy a fucking pager and it'll beep the whole house awake, okay

**Craig Tucker: **And then if it doesn't wake me up, someone else will

**Stan Marsh: **Hey...

**Stan Marsh: **Umn

**Stan Marsh: **I'm going to message Garrison and we can go at 9, okay?

**Stan Marsh: **my mom wants me to uh...do the lawn

**Craig Tucker: **...

**Craig Tucker: **what are you doing?

**Stan Marsh: **mowing the lawn

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not stupid, Stan

**Craig Tucker: **And I thought you didn't want to go with me anyway, so I was just going to leave

**Stan Marsh: **oh

**Stan Marsh: **yeah that works, I'll see you at 9

**Craig Tucker: **...right

**Craig Tucker: **See you then.

**Stan Marsh: **see you then

**Stan Marsh: **I love you

**Craig Tucker: **You too

* * *

**Craig Tucker: **- I don't think I'm going to go.

**Stan Marsh: **- I want to go. I'm staying in our room. show up.

**Craig Tucker: **- I really just don't want to go. If you want I still will, though

**Stan Marsh: **- I want you to.

**Craig Tucker: **- Alright.

**Stan Marsh: **- I love you.

**Craig Tucker: **- Love you too

**Stan Marsh: **- you okay?

**Craig Tucker: **- Fine

**Stan Marsh: **- I'm sorry

**Craig Tucker: **- For what

**Stan Marsh: **- for earlier when I told you I wanted another room

**Stan Marsh: **- I didn't mean that

**Stan Marsh: **- I want to be in a room with you all the time

**Craig Tucker: **- That's okay

**Stan Marsh: **- it's not okay

**Stan Marsh: **- nothing i said was okay

**Craig Tucker: **- Yeah well, can't change it now so whatever

**Stan Marsh: **- I can't take back what I said but I love you

**Craig Tucker: **- I love you too

* * *

**Craig Tucker: **- Are you at the hotel yet?

**Craig Tucker: **- Stan?

**Craig Tucker: **- Are you okay?

**Stan Marsh: **- no

**Craig Tucker: **- Where are you?

**Stan Marsh: **- somewhere I shouldn't be

**Stan Marsh: **- I'm sorry..

**Craig Tucker: **- Stan what did you do

**Craig Tucker: **- Where are you

**Stan Marsh: **- I'll drive in a minute to the hotel..see you there

**Craig Tucker: **- Stan, no I'm already on my way back to South Park, just tell me where you are

**Craig Tucker: **- I wasn't that far away so don't worry about it

**Stan Marsh: **- my hands are too shaky to type on this phone..

**Stan Marsh: **- call me

* * *

**Craig Tucker: **-calls-

**Stan Marsh: **-Answers- Hey..

**Craig Tucker: **Where are you?

**Stan Marsh: **In front of the apartments..like, the ones almost outside of town

**Craig Tucker: **What's wrong? I'll be there soon, but tell me what happened.

**Stan Marsh: **I'm fine, just shakey.

**Craig Tucker: **Why?

**Stan Marsh: **Just...stuff.

**Craig Tucker: **What stuff.

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to talk about it..

**Craig Tucker: **Who's apartment are you at.

**Stan Marsh: **Was at.

**Craig Tucker: **Were at.

**Stan Marsh: **I'm outside in my truck

**Craig Tucker: **Stan. Who's apartment.

**Stan Marsh: **Damien's.

**Craig Tucker: **Why.

**Stan Marsh: **I made him food.

**Craig Tucker: **And?

**Stan Marsh: **That's it..

**Craig Tucker: **No it's not; I can hear it in your voice.

**Craig Tucker: **You can tell me later, if you want, but don't fucking lie to me

**Stan Marsh: **I just wanted you safe..

**Craig Tucker: **I was safe.

**Craig Tucker: **So were you.

**Stan Marsh: **I'm never going to be safe, Craig..you know that.

**Craig Tucker: **What did you _do_.

**Craig Tucker: **Look, we're almost there

**Craig Tucker: **I'll drive you home

**Stan Marsh: **You remember that time in Peru..?

**Craig Tucker: **Uh... yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **You know how you thought it was just me, Kyle, Cartman and Kenny who thought up the Peruvian flute band idea?

**Stan Marsh: **It was really just me.

**Stan Marsh: **I'm always doing stupid things..I really, really, really think you should date someone smarter, Craig..

**Craig Tucker: **Fuck you Stan, I'm not going to date someone else. I like dating you. You do have your dumbass moments, but I love you, okay? We're here, I'm going to hang up.

**Stan Marsh: **Okay...

* * *

**Craig climbs out of Token's car and makes his way over to Stan's truck. Be slides in the passenger side and immediately sees Stan's tear streaked face. "Stan… what happened?" he asks, suddenly a lot more concerned than he's previously been, if that's even possible. He throws back the middle arm rest and moves over to Stan, pulling him into an embrace. He's not really sure what to say, especially not without knowing what happened. He just holds Stan against himself and pets a hand through his hair, trying to be even a little comforting. What the **_**fuck**_** happened in there?**

Stan didn't hear Token's car pull up, but he did see the lights. So he sat in the front of the truck, staring at the wheel, thinking about what he would tell Craig. The truth? He really didn't want to, because he was afraid Craig would run inside and get himself killed. Lie to him? He didn't want that either, because he hated lying and he was awful at it.

He allowed Craig to pull him closer, and he felt relieved by his body pressed against his. Even the warmth was welcoming, and he turned to nuzzle the other and then put his head down on his shoulder, his arms still limp in his lap. With a frown, he stared off towards the dashboard and then sighed.

"I want to tell you...but you're going to be pissed."

"**Just… tell me. I won't go in there," he says, knowing that's what Stan is actually worried about. Stan isn't dead, and he looks like he's in one piece, so it's all good. Right? He just keeps holding onto Stan, feeling him shake lightly. Craig is almost afraid to know what actually happened.**

He stayed close to the other, still trembling slightly, and he kept quiet for a few minutes before he finally spoke.

"I went to undo your deal because I don't want you doing stuff like that. This is my problem, I have to deal with it. So I told him I'd make him something so I took over some stuff to make in his kitchen, because he wanted that, and I was doing stuff and I put my hand in the bag and I really wasn't paying attention because I had been texting you and I sliced my hand on the knife I brought, and it started bleeding all over..."

**Craig leans back a little bit, turning over Stan's hands so he could see the wound. "Um… you're not bleeding. And there's no scar…" he says. Not that it's a bad thing, but it's confusing. He rubs his thumbs over Stan's hands, trying to feel where a wound would have been, but at the same time just wanting to be of some comfort. "How?" he decides to ask, to get Stan to continue his story.**

"Well he came in and was like 'I can help you with that', and I told him to fuck off. Like, still trying to cook, because I'm really trying not to piss him off. And he pretty much grabbed my hand and like...well...he..." He lifted up the hand that it 'happened' to, and pointed to where the cut used t o be. Trailing a finger over it, he said, "...well he licked it, and then he like, put his mouth on it, and it felt kind of like tingly and then it was healed. And then he left me in the kitchen again."

"**So…" Craig starts, trying not to be pissed that Damien had been sucking on his boyfriend. No, Stan said lick. Not that that's any better. "He helped you, then?" he asks, eyeing the hand where Stan had touched. It doesn't even look like he'd ever been injured.**

"...Yeah, I guess." Stan said quietly, and then continued. "Then I gave him a plate and the container of noodles, and I tried telling him I'd do whatever you're doing...and he kept saying he wasn't calling off your deal. So I got pissed..." It wasn't fully true. He had been doing something else, but he wasn't about to tell Craig his 'distraction' plan. After all, Christophe had stayed alive for years because of rebelling; maybe that was the key. "And I dumped his food on the floor. Then he pinned me and broke my arm...and...well, words were exchanged, and he let me go, and he healed my arm."

"**He broke your fucking arm?" Craig asks, a little louder than completely necessary. He tries to absorb that for a second, failing miserably at not getting pissed off. He's going to fucking **_**kill**_** Damien. He doesn't care what it fucking takes; he'll use Token's experts or something, fuck.**

"**What 'words?'" he asks after a second, taking the focus off of the arm break. For his own sake and for Stan's. That couldn't have been very easy for Stan, and he probably doesn't want to think about it.**

Stan jumped slightly when Craig raised his voice, reacting negatively to anything that startled him. Cuddling closer, he finally moved his arms to wrap them around Craig's neck, as if to hold him from walking out of the truck. He couldn't handle Craig pissing off Damien. No, and definitely not tonight.

"...I said some pretty stupid things..like..the pain...and it..well...I sort of said I'd do anything, and he said okay. So you deliver food..and I do anything he wants."

He sounded incredibly bitter, and he buried his face in Craig's hoodie.

"_**Stan**_**," Craig says, holding him tighter to his own body. Food is one thing, but anything is **_**anything**_**. And it's not just normal anything, it's anything with the creativity of the fucking Antichrist behind it. This is really fucking bad. And Craig isn't sure he can fix it this time.**

**Craig sighs, all but clutching Stan to himself at this point. What the fuck is he supposed to do now? What if he loses Stan to this asshole?**

"**You're moving into my room," he says bluntly, not really thinking about it first. It was just the first thing to come to mind when he thought of how to keep Stan safe. He'd only know for sure if Stan was with him at all times. He can't let Stan get hurt like this again. "I've got that huge storage closet up there. There's like, Christmas decorations and stuff in there, and it's not exactly pretty, but you can put all your shit in there. Maybe even your bed."**

"What difference would that make..." Stan said, closing his eyes and concentrating on how tight Craig was holding him. "I'm staying in my room, Craig.."

Truthfully, he would have liked to say he would go into Craig's room, simply because he wanted more time with Craig. But he couldn't take Halftime with him, and he didn't want to be up all night listening to mournful squeaks from Stripe or Mellow when they were in the same room as each other.

"Just...don't talk about it, okay...let's just go home."

**Craig wants to argue, but maybe now isn't the best time. He can talk to Stan about it later, when Stan isn't quite as shaken up. "Alright," he says quietly, continuing to hold onto him for a few moments.  
He takes his phone out of his pocket and brings it around Stan's back so he can see, sending a text to Token to tell him it's okay to leave but that they're going to have a serious fucking chat about how to get rid of Damien.**

"**Let me drive," he says, pulling away from Stan for the sake of maneuverability. He brings himself to the correct side of the car, and then holds out a hand for Stan to either hold or take as a sign that he doesn't have to sit way on the other side of the truck.**

Stan moved obediently, and looked down to Craig's hand once the other was in the drivers spot. Staring at it for a moment, he reached over and took Craig's hand, and then laid his head on the seat, gazing out the window without so much as a word or facial expression.

**Craig drives silently, holding onto Stan's hand as they go. He feels terrible about how vacant Stan is acting, and about what apparently happened while Craig was just playing fucking DDR. He let Stan go over there, and Stan got his fucking arm broken and got sucked into slave ship. There's plenty of things Craig could have done to keep Stan from even going near Damien, and now Stan is stuck. This is fucking bad. This is so fucking bad. Why does the fucking Antichrist even live in South Park, anyway?**

**He pulls up to his own house, not caring that it means Stan's truck will be sitting in his drive way. He shuts off the engine and scoots closer to Stan, taking him into another hug. "We'll just stay here tonight, okay?" he says, not really knowing if Stan even cares where they are.**

"Okay," Stan replied nonchalantly, his eyes focused on the dashboard in a daze. He fell onto Craig without much effort, leaning on him as the other hugged him. He looked away finally at Craig, staring at the other's face for a moment before he moved to plant a kiss on the other's cheek, and then he went back to laying on him. "Should we get out now."

"**We can get out when you're done hugging me," he says, actually hoping that that's not any time soon. He doesn't even want to let go, because Stan almost looks like he might shatter if he's not held together. Maybe they can just teleport up to his room somehow.**

Stan didn't respond, and instead curled up on the seat next to Craig, falling over slightly into the other's lap. With his eyes closed, he hoped the other would stroke his hair or something, and just continue holding him. He was going to have to program his phone so he knew when Damien was calling...maybe he would just set it to trololol when it happened. Maybe then he would be less afraid.

"Craig..I'm sorry."

**Craig just feels all kind of terrible as Stan sinks further down his chest, almost landing in his lap. He wonders if Stan will ever be okay. He brings a hand up on instinct to run it through Stan's hair. When Stan apologizes, Craig doesn't even know what to say. It's not Stan's fault that this happened, but Stan contacted Damien when Craig told him not to. Why doesn't Stan do anything to keep himself safe?**

"**I fucking love you, Stan," he says, instead of any kind of real response. And really that's all Craig can much focus on. He's just glad Stan is alive. "I love you a fucking lot."**

"I love you too, Craig." Stan murmured, his eyes closing as he laid on top of Craig limply, resting his entire body weight on the other. He was feeling rather defeated, and regretted even trying to rectify the situation, because now he was sort of...well, screwed. He reached out to put his hand on Craig's, which was on his head.

"Don't die before me. I can't handle it."

**Craig still moves his hand slowly under Stan's, looking down at him and almost feeling sick. This is so fucking fucked up. "Neither one of us are going to die, okay?" he says. As long as they both keep up on their deals, they'll be okay. And Token is going to help, so hopefully it'll all be over soon. And Craig will try to find a way for Stan to not get into too much trouble, in the meantime. Somehow.**

"Okay..." Stan sighed, and slowly pushed himself off the seat. Opening up his phone, he set it to play the siren from Silent Hill whenever Damien called - really, that could wake up anyone.

"Let's just go inside," Stan said as he crawled out from the front seat, getting out of the truck. Walking up to the door, he turned and waited for Craig to let him inside.

"**Aright," Craig says, following Stan out of the truck. He opens the door and leads Stan inside, all the way up to his room. He kicks off his shoes and doesn't bother with anyone else before he lays down in his bed, waiting for Stan to join him. He just wants to keep Stan in his bed for the next week and not move and just make sure he's okay. Stan got his goddamned fucking arm broken today, and he's now permanently on call for the fucking Antichrist. Yeah, Craig thinks he's just going to hold on to him for a while, thanks.**

Stan crawled into the bed after kicking off his shoes, curling up by Craig with his back turned to him. He reaches over to grab Craig's arm, so he can drape it over his middle, and then he sets his phone out by his head in case it went off. He would start to hate his phone, he was sure.

"Night..." He mumbled quietly, and then shut his eyes.

**When Stan actually sets his phone on the pillow, Craig wants nothing more than to chuck the fucking thing at a wall. But that would be bad, very bad, so he doesn't. He just tucks himself tightly against Stan and tries to repress his urge to shout. He's so angry by this point; fucking angry at Damien for doing this to them. "Good night," he returns, pressing a small kiss to the back of Stan's head. "Love you."**

Feeling the wave of defeat wash over him as he drifted off to sleep, he muttered, "I love you too." Before he fell into a deep sleep, extremely exhausted. He might have been angry if he weren't so scared, but really, he had moved past the anger now and was mourning his freedom.


	28. 06 02 2012

06.02.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh:** Can I bring Mellow back with me?

**Craig Tucker:** To my house?

**Stan Marsh:** yes

**Craig Tucker:** Sure, there's floor space

**Stan Marsh:** will she keep you up?

**Craig Tucker:** No, I already have Stripe

**Stan Marsh:** but I thought she made stripe loud

**Craig Tucker:** She does

**Craig Tucker:** It's fine

**Stan Marsh:** I have to talk to my mom about this

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know what to tell her

**Craig Tucker:** "this" being...?

**Stan Marsh:** why I'm staying at your house

**Craig Tucker:** Just tell her that you have a stalker or something

**Stan Marsh:** ...yeah that's not going to work

**Stan Marsh:** she'll freak out

**Stan Marsh:** and call the police

**Stan Marsh:** and then tell my dad

**Stan Marsh:** and he'll either a.) not give a shit and keep watching tv or b.) overreact and notify the whole town of a stalker in south park

**Craig Tucker:** What are you going to tell her then?

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know

**Stan Marsh:** I have to think something up

**Stan Marsh:** Damien hasn't called me, has he called you

**Craig Tucker:** No, not yet

**Stan Marsh:** christophe was like...

**Stan Marsh:** he thinks he wants sex

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know

**Stan Marsh:** you don't think that's it do you?

**Craig Tucker:** If he wanted sex, I think he would have taken it already

**Stan Marsh:** unless he just likes playing with people before he rapes them

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know

**Craig Tucker:** Dude

**Craig Tucker:** Stan

**Craig Tucker:** Why would he rape you

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know

**Stan Marsh:** why would he make out with my hand

**Stan Marsh:** okay, what I don't get

**Stan Marsh:** is if he could heal someone by touch

**Stan Marsh:** why the fuck would he use his tongue on my hand

**Craig Tucker:** ...to be creepy?

**Stan Marsh:** i guess

**Craig Tucker:** I'm really pissed off that his tongue was on you

**Craig Tucker:** Just thought I'd throw that out there

**Craig Tucker:** He's going to pay for that one, somehow

**Stan Marsh:** is token really going to fix this?

**Craig Tucker:** Food poisoning or something

**Craig Tucker:** I hope so

**Stan Marsh:** i don't think food poisoning affects him..

**Craig Tucker:** He has a stomach; he'll get sick

**Craig Tucker:** I don't care, I'm trying

**Stan Marsh:** don't

**Stan Marsh:** he'll think you poisoned it

**Stan Marsh:** I don't want you dead

**Stan Marsh:** look, he's not going to ask for anything else, okay

**Stan Marsh:** just stupid favors

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah

**Stan Marsh:** at most he'll probably ask me to clean his apartment because he's fucking lazy

**Stan Marsh:** so don't worry about it okay

**Craig Tucker:** I'll try, but fuck, maybe I should go with you every time he calls

**Stan Marsh:** don't worry about it

**Stan Marsh:** you can if you want

**Stan Marsh:** hey craig?

**Stan Marsh:** can I ask you a question?

**Craig Tucker:** Um, yeah, go for it

**Stan Marsh:** what's rimming

**Craig Tucker:** ...are you talking to Christophe?

**Stan Marsh:** ...yeah why

**Stan Marsh:** well what is it

**Craig Tucker:** Um

**Craig Tucker:** It's like the equivalent of eating out a female

**Craig Tucker:** but on a male

**Stan Marsh:** ...so like a blow job

**Craig Tucker:** No

**Stan Marsh:** ...what

**Stan Marsh:** Like what

**Craig Tucker:** Like sticking your tongue in someone ass

**Stan Marsh:** ...

**Stan Marsh:** who would do that

**Craig Tucker:** I don't know

**Craig Tucker:** Apparently your friend

**Stan Marsh:** oh my god

**Stan Marsh:** okay

**Stan Marsh:** no

**Stan Marsh:** I'm not doing that

**Craig Tucker:** I didn't tell you to

**Stan Marsh:** ...wait

**Stan Marsh:** would you do that

**Craig Tucker:** No, probably not

**Stan Marsh:** ...probably not?

**Craig Tucker:** If you haven't figured it out yet, I do everything you tell me to. But I wouldn't do it by my own choice, no.

**Stan Marsh:** ...oh my god

**Stan Marsh:** I'm

**Stan Marsh:** never asking you to do that

**Stan Marsh:** never

**Craig Tucker:** Good

**Stan Marsh:** do you want to do it tonight?

**Stan Marsh:** I'd say right now but fuck, I can't figure out what to tell my mom

**Craig Tucker:** ...do what

**Stan Marsh:** ...fuck

**Stan Marsh:** not rimming

**Stan Marsh:** just fuck

**Craig Tucker:** Sure

**Stan Marsh:** are you okay with it?

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, I am

**Craig Tucker:** So you're bringing Mello?

**Stan Marsh:** Yeah

**Stan Marsh:** okay, maybe that'd be mean

**Stan Marsh:** we'd be fucking in a room the guinea pigs can't fuck but can hear

**Stan Marsh:** That's so cruel

**Craig Tucker:** ..they'll be fine

**Stan Marsh:** ...really

**Stan Marsh:** can we just do it like...I don't know

**Stan Marsh:** ...hey craig

**Stan Marsh:** have you ever had someone ride your cock?

**Craig Tucker:** Um, yes, why?

**Stan Marsh:** ...really

**Stan Marsh:** like

**Stan Marsh:** you just lay there, and they're going up and down on you

**Stan Marsh:** and you watch

**Stan Marsh:** you've done that

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah

**Stan Marsh:** ...did you like it

**Craig Tucker:** Duh, it was sex

**Stan Marsh:** ...who did it

**Craig Tucker:** Does it matter?

**Stan Marsh:** no

**Stan Marsh:** ...do you want me to do it

**Craig Tucker:** If you want

**Craig Tucker:** You're not still, um, in pain?

**Stan Marsh:** ...yeah, sort of

**Stan Marsh:** pretty much

**Stan Marsh:** I'm starting to get used to it though, it's fine

**Craig Tucker:** Maybe we should wait

**Stan Marsh:** ...

**Stan Marsh:** did I like, gain weight or something

**Stan Marsh:** do you not find me attractive

**Craig Tucker:** No, what the fuck

**Craig Tucker:** I don't want to hurt you

**Stan Marsh:** was it the manscaping?

**Craig Tucker:** No

**Stan Marsh:** it was the manscaping wasn't it

**Craig Tucker:** No, Stan, that's fine

**Craig Tucker:** I don't want to fucking hurt you

**Craig Tucker:** more

**Stan Marsh:** but..

**Stan Marsh:** we haven't done it like in forever

**Craig Tucker:** It's only been a few days...

**Stan Marsh:** ...it's been _forever_

**Stan Marsh:** okay, fine

**Stan Marsh:** can I give you a blow job

**Craig Tucker:** Um, yeah, that's fine

**Stan Marsh:** can I top you?

**Stan Marsh:** I'll rim you if you let me top

**Craig Tucker:** Okay, no, oh my god

**Stan Marsh:** why not

**Craig Tucker:** Because I really don't think you could handle topping, no offence

**Craig Tucker:** And why would you want your tongue there

**Stan Marsh:** I don't care

**Stan Marsh:** if Gregory can top sometimes then I want to fucking top sometimes

**Craig Tucker:** What does Gregory have to do with this

**Stan Marsh:** Christophe says he usually bottoms but he lets him top

**Stan Marsh:** you don't let me top

**Stan Marsh:** I think it's unfair

**Craig Tucker:** I don't "not let you"

**Craig Tucker:** I told you you could try

**Craig Tucker:** You just haven't

**Stan Marsh:** Try

**Stan Marsh:** I could try

**Stan Marsh:** you're being a bastard

**Stan Marsh:** Why won't you let someone top

**Stan Marsh:** it doesn't mean I want it all the time

**Stan Marsh:** I just want to try it

**Craig Tucker:** So try

**Stan Marsh:** okay

**Stan Marsh:** I will

**Craig Tucker:** Okay

**Stan Marsh:** ...

**Stan Marsh:** I don't want you to be angry if I top

**Craig Tucker:** I won't be angry

**Stan Marsh:** what if I do it wrong

**Craig Tucker:** How many times have I done it to you? You just... do it

**Craig Tucker:** If it hurts or something, I'd say something

**Craig Tucker:** But you have to act like a top to actually make this any fun, and really, like I said

**Craig Tucker:** You're kind of not

**Stan Marsh:** ...

**Craig Tucker:** You want to try dominating me?

**Stan Marsh:** yeah

**Stan Marsh:** well I've done it before

**Craig Tucker:** Have you

**Stan Marsh:** I tied you with a belt, dumbass

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, and even after that you were still submissive as hell

**Stan Marsh:** ugh

**Stan Marsh:** fine

**Stan Marsh:** I'll never fucking top

**Craig Tucker:** No, try

**Stan Marsh:** no

**Stan Marsh:** you don't want me to

**Craig Tucker:** I do

**Stan Marsh:** I'm not enough of a 'top'

**Craig Tucker:** You can try to be

**Stan Marsh:** ...

**Craig Tucker:** What

**Stan Marsh:** can I get whipped cream and chocolate and eat it off of you?

**Craig Tucker:** Uh, if you want

**Stan Marsh:** are you not into that

**Craig Tucker:** Can't say I've thought about it too much

**Stan Marsh:** I won't do it if you don't like it

**Craig Tucker:** I like doing whatever you like doing; I like seeing your face when you like something

**Stan Marsh:** Goddamnit craig

**Stan Marsh:** you never tell me what you fucking like

**Craig Tucker:** I told you

**Craig Tucker:** I like you

**Stan Marsh:** No, you have to have kinks

**Stan Marsh:** I'm not going to be the only kinky bastard in this relationship

**Stan Marsh:** Get fucking kinks

**Craig Tucker:** I like being bitten

**Stan Marsh:** That's IT

**Craig Tucker:** And I really like my hair being pulled/played with

**Craig Tucker:** And I kinda liked handcuffing you that one day

**Stan Marsh:** ...yeah?

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah

**Stan Marsh:** ...do you want to do it again

**Craig Tucker:** If you want

**Stan Marsh:** no

**Stan Marsh:** I want YOU to want it

**Craig Tucker:** then yes

**Stan Marsh:** so you want it

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah

**Stan Marsh:** ..so you like bondage?

**Craig Tucker:** On you at least, fuck yeah

**Stan Marsh:** want to go buy more?

**Stan Marsh:** I have money

**Craig Tucker:** Do we need more?

**Stan Marsh:** ...yeah, why not

**Craig Tucker:** I don't know, it just seems expensive

**Stan Marsh:** but I want you to tie me up as many ways as possible

**Craig Tucker:** I think I have enough gas to make it to Denver

**Stan Marsh:** let's go

**Stan Marsh:** we could get a room in that hotel..

**Stan Marsh:** not on the fourth floor

**Craig Tucker:** Fuck, that's right, Garrison is there

**Stan Marsh:** so?

**Stan Marsh:** he wouldn't know if we're there

**Stan Marsh:** denver is big

**Craig Tucker:** He's a creepy fucking asshole; he's probably tracking us

**Stan Marsh:** ...what

**Craig Tucker:** But I told him we weren't going and he said he'd still pass us

**Stan Marsh:** Wait, what

**Stan Marsh:** why would he be tracking us

**Craig Tucker:** But if he sees us there, I don't know if he'll still pass us

**Craig Tucker:** I don't know, he knows shit he shouldn't

**Stan Marsh:** like what

**Craig Tucker:** Like what foods we ate in the locker room, and other weird fucking shit

**Craig Tucker:** And he's nosey

**Craig Tucker:** Always asking me questions

**Stan Marsh:** ...

**Stan Marsh:** what

**Stan Marsh:** Why didn't you tell me this

**Stan Marsh:** how could he know that

**Stan Marsh:** We didn't tell anyone about what we ate

**Craig Tucker:** Supposedly it was "obvious"

**Craig Tucker:** And he just guessed

**Craig Tucker:** But I think he's fucking creepy

**Stan Marsh:** ...what if he locked us in there

**Craig Tucker:** Why would he do that?

**Stan Marsh:** it's garrison

**Stan Marsh:** why would he do anything

**Craig Tucker:** ...true

**Stan Marsh:** He's a sick fuck

**Stan Marsh:** If he recorded that, oh my god

**Craig Tucker:** ...but nothing actually happened in there

**Craig Tucker:** Well, never mind

**Craig Tucker:** We touched each other's dicks

**Stan Marsh:** we got pretty fucking loud

**Craig Tucker:** You did, anyway

**Stan Marsh:** shut up, dude

**Stan Marsh:** this is not the time

**Craig Tucker:** What, I like how loud you are

**Stan Marsh:** I think we need to have a funeral

**Stan Marsh:** because now that I know garrison is like, stalking us

**Stan Marsh:** my sex drive just died

**Craig Tucker:** ...he's not stalking us

**Stan Marsh:** yeah and he just magically guesses what we ate

**Stan Marsh:** and last night when I was dealing with Damien

**Stan Marsh:** I asked garrison to help me

**Stan Marsh:** And he told me to run fast when I dropped off the pizza that one night

**Stan Marsh:** and when I got there damien was fucking waiting

**Stan Marsh:** I didn't message him or anything about what I was doing

**Stan Marsh:** or when I was coming

**Stan Marsh:** he just knew

**Stan Marsh:** I bet anything garrison told him

**Craig Tucker:** Well so he's a bastard nark, that doesn't mean he's a stalker

**Stan Marsh:** ask him if he locked us in there

**Craig Tucker:** Why?

**Stan Marsh:** because

**Stan Marsh:** I bet he did

**Craig Tucker:** Why would he tell me the truth?

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know

**Craig Tucker:** Let's just say he did

**Stan Marsh:** ...what

**Craig Tucker:** I don't want to ask, and he's a creepy pervo, so let's just assume he did it

**Stan Marsh:** ...how is that any better

**Craig Tucker:** I don't know; so we can ignore him

**Stan Marsh:** craig, stop talking to christophe about Damien

**Craig Tucker:** Why? I'm asking questions

**Stan Marsh:** like what

**Stan Marsh:** stop asking

**Craig Tucker:** Why?

**Craig Tucker:** He might know stuff

**Stan Marsh:** no

**Stan Marsh:** ugh whatever

**Stan Marsh:** if you keep pissing me off I'm going to top you

**Craig Tucker:** Do it

**Craig Tucker:** Try

**Stan Marsh:** are you challenging me?

**Craig Tucker:** Yep

**Craig Tucker:** I dare you

**Stan Marsh:** Okay

**Stan Marsh:** Fine

**Stan Marsh:** Fuck you

**Stan Marsh:** I'm coming over

**Craig Tucker:** Okay

* * *

Stan had shoved a few things in his bag, and then swung it angrily on his shoulder - it now was still on it as he walked into the Tucker household, and looked around. No one was in the immediate entry way, so he snuck up the stairs to Craig's room, and opened the door.

**Craig turns around in his desk chair when he hears Stan come in, and eyes him up and down, noting the bag on his shoulder. "Pissed or something?" he asks, already knowing the answer. But he wants to see if Stan can actually pull this off, and maybe making him angry is the way to do it.**

Throwing his bag on the floor, he walks across the room to Craig's chair. Really, Stan usually ignored his own strength, because he was afraid of hurting people. Even in fights he tried to not use as much force as possible since he lifted weights. So when he actually used his full force into yanking Craig out of his computer chair and shoving him towards his bed, it was noticeable that he had been holding back.

**Craig is a bit surprised when Stan used so much force to pull him out of his chair. Stan is never quite that rough, even when they fight. He hands on his back on his mattress, and he sits himself up on his elbows to stare at Stan. Well this might get kinda fun after all. If only Stan can keep his confidence up like this. Stan's had his moments in the past, but he's always overturned pretty easily by Craig. He wonders if Stan had it in him to take complete control. Well Craig is going to fight it every step of the way, even though he definitely wants to see where this ends up.**

Watching Craig fall on the bed, Stan hesitated. He wasn't one to get rough, and it made him feel horrible for doing that to Craig. But why did Craig even talk to Damien? Why would he try to put himself in his place? Christophe said that he was protecting him, but Stan had angrily x'd out of their chat window after he read it. Thinking of it now, he narrowed his eyes at Craig, feeling extremely hurt.

He moved to the nightstand, where he had seen Craig rummaging before during their sexual exploits. Grabbing the lube, he threw it on the pillow and then climbed onto the bed. He straddled Craig, and pinned his arms on the bed forcefully, pressing down with most of his upper arm strength.

Then he just stared at Craig, as if he were waiting for him to react.

**Craig watches as Stan rummages through the night stand, pulling out the lube. When Stan crawls on top of him, he'd expected to be pinned down, but not for Stan to use that much strength. He smirks up at him, though, at the way Stan got on him. "You're just used to me being in between your legs, huh," he says. He rolls his hips up against Stan's, grinding his pelvis into Stan's ass. "Instinctually bottom," he says tauntingly as he rocks his hips one more time. He's already annoyed that they're wearing jeans, but he's more focused on Stan's face. He wants a kiss, but he's sort of pinned down, so he'll have to wait.**

Stan lifted his hips off Craig, so he was pinning him but not sitting on him. With an unamused glare, he moved Craig's right arm to where he had the left pinned, and then pinned both of his wrists with his left hand. Moving his legs together so he had the other's hips pinned between his knees, he then moved his right hand to the other's zipper, pulling it down forcefully and then undoing the button.

"Shut up." He said as he moved his hand to his head, pulling off his hat. Then he shoved it in Craig's mouth, for a moment grabbing him by the chin as he looked at him.

**Craig tugs absently at his wrists when Stan puts them in one hand. He's extremely annoyed by the fact that it he wants to get out of this, he'll have to put real effort into it. He doesn't have any doubts that he could throw Stan off, but he never really realized before how much Stan had been holding back. It's kind of… hot.**

**He's pleased when Stan reaches down to undo his jeans, but narrows his eyes dangerously when Stan stuffs his hat in his mouth. That's not very much appreciated, especially when Craig isn't the loud one and Stan has no idea what he's doing. That just doesn't seem smart on any level. He keeps silent, though, not wanting to give the hat a purpose.**

Moving himself away for a moment, he keeps his hand on Craig's wrists as he moves him to his stomach. With a pause, he climbed back on top of Craig, and used both hands to pull his arms down roughly behind his back, pinning his wrists down near his lower back.

He frowned as he did it however, and he was hesitating a lot more then he thought he would if he actually had the nerve to do something like this. Maybe he wasn't ready for this. But Craig's challenge was too damn good to resist, and he wanted to show him he was able to do it.

Leaning close to Craig's head, he hovered there a moment. His left hand was holding Craig's wrists together, and his right pointer finger was hooked around the edge of Craig's boxers and pants, pulling them downwards as he whispered, "Groan once if you're having fun...groan twice if I'm doing it wrong."

**Craig didn't really see it coming when Stan suddenly flips him, and then he's stuck face down in his own mattress with his arms behind his back. Well fuck, maybe Craig should have gotten out of that when he had the chance. He turns his head to the side to get slightly more comfortable while he thinks a bit. From this angle, trying to get out would probably hurt, and besides, Craig doesn't have any leverage. When Stan starts to pull his pants off, he narrows his eyes at his bed, getting a little pissed off that he went down so easy. He wasn't really intending on letting Stan have poser for much longer, but now Craig can't really get out.**

**Stan's whisper gets to him though; and it's more just his voice than his words. The undertone to his whisper almost made a shiver run down his spine. He pushes with his tongue to get the hat out of his mouth, and once it's out, he says, "How about I just tell you you're doing it **_**right**_**?"**

"Hmmm." Stan stared, half-lidded downwards at Craig's sideways turned head. "That's about five too many words, I don't want to hear you narrate what you're feeling." He removed his right hand to pick up the hat, and then shoved it back in Craig's mouth. If he really kept spitting out, he would get irritated.

"Let's go with the groans, okay."

He moved his hand back down to the rim of the other's pants, and gave a strong tug to move the layers downwards until they were to Craig's thighs. Running his fingertips along the curve of Craig's behind, he trailed them around tauntingly, leaning into the other's back as he pinned him.

"Can I do it? One groan for no, two for yes. Just because I like to hear you groan."

**Craig gets annoyed when the hat is returned to his mouth. He really doesn't like it being there, especially not without a purpose. He spits it out again when he feels Stan caressing his ass, and he glares behind him, not answering. He kind of wants Stan to do it, but he really, because he's a little more than enjoying himself, but he doesn't want Stan to fucking do things that Craig clearly doesn't like; example, don't put something back in Craig's fucking mouth that he's already spit out once.**

Waiting for an answer that doesn't come, Stan's hand hesitated its slow caress, and he narrowed his eyes angrily. With the same hand that had been teasing the other gently a moment before, he used it to dig his nails into his left cheek, pressing down on Craig's back.

"Give me a goddamn answer, Craig," he demanded, suddenly renewed in his determination to do what he came over to do.

**Craig scoffs and looks away, trying to drop his anger, considering Stan doesn't try to shove the hat in his mouth again. Instead of just saying yes, he asks, "If I said no, would you stop?" Because really, why did Stan even ask in the first place? Obviously Craig isn't fighting that hard, so the answer is most likely going to be yes.**

Glaring at the other's clothed back, he let his hand lighten up on its grip on Craig's behind. He didn't want to hurt Craig, but he didn't want him bossing him around either. If he didn't want him to act like a bottom, he wouldn't.

"I want a fucking answer."

**Craig just continues to lay there for a second, wondering why he's letting Stan do this when he has no fucking idea what he's even doing. Especially when no one has ever topped Craig and Stan is this pissed off. "Yeah," he finally answers anyway, figuring that if Stan hurts him, it's probably been coming for a while anyway. After all, they didn't use lube last time, and there's… other reasons Stan should be angry.**

Stan sat there a moment, actually shocked Craig said yes. He was pretty sure the other would tell him to get the fuck off him. Apprehensively, he reached over for the lube, securing it with his one hand, and then paused. He looked down at the other, realizing how hard he was forcing him into the bed. It kind of scared him. Yes, Stan was scared of himself.

Really, why was he so angry at Craig? Because he loved him to the point of risking his life for him? For protecting him? For doing things Stan would do himself in order to protect Craig, which he did? Craig wasn't upset that he had gone back to Damien's last night - he had hugged Stan all night, cradling him, comforting him. And when Stan realized that maybe, just maybe this anger stemmed from being attacked the night before by Damien, since Stan was angry because he couldn't control anything right now - he knew he didn't want this to be Craig's first time. Being abused had made him feel less than human, and he was projecting that dark feeling onto Craig...someone he loved. Stan was disgusted with himself.

He slowly let go of Craig's wrists, and then dropped the container of lube on the covers and slid off of the bed.

Walking to the door, he bent down and picked up his bag, and opened the door and went out without saying a word.

**When Craig feels Stan get off of him, he gets confused. He sits up and turns over to see what Stan is doing. What the Hell, why is Stan leaving? "Stan?" he asks, but the other just opens the door and leaves. …what the fuck..?**

**Craig quickly pulls his pants back on and goes after Stan, catching him near the top of the stairs. "Where the Hell are you going?" he asks, though it's a little more concerned than anything. Stan just up and tried to leave without saying so much as goodbye. He pulls Stan back into his room and waits for an explanation.**

Shuddering when Craig pulled him back inside his room, he threw up his hands in the air, trying to distance himself from Craig. "No, no...don't, Craig..just stop," He said quickly, afraid of touching the other right now. What he had done was despicable, and he couldn't think clearly right now, besides an overwhelming feeling of shame.

"I almost hurt you, I didn't want to. I don't want to hurt you ever, I just want to go home and be fucking pissed at myself, okay..."

His voice quivered slightly as he kept his eyes averted to the side, unable to look at Craig.

**Craig backs off when Stan near pushes him. He stays silent for a moment, a little shocked. Stan just seems so… broken. How did it get this bad? Especially when they were just fine a second ago? What the **_**fuck**_** is Damien doing to him?**

"**Stan, you weren't hurting me. You were just being dominant; that's not bad. You're probably just not used to it… um…" He pauses in his in his quiet words, trying to figure out what else to say. He wants to just hug Stan, because normally that works, but right now Stan apparently doesn't want to be touched. "I was just being an ass; I wanted it, okay? You weren't hurting me."**

**He's not sure why Stan thought Craig was in pain, but he understands the fear well enough. He never wants to hurt Stan; especially not sexually. That would be fucking terrible.**

"I...just don't want to hurt you." Stan said quietly, still rattled. He edged closer to Craig, letting the bag drop on the floor as he put his arms around him and hugged him tightly. He knew there wasn't anything wrong with being dominant, and if the circumstances were different, he probably would have been excited on some level. But the pressure he was using on Craig, the thoughts he was thinking...they didn't go with the moment. And it terrified him that he could have done something without being emotionally there in the moment.

"Don't be upset with me..."

**Craig wraps his arms around Stan when Stan finally comes to him, and he immediately starts petting Stan's hair. "I'm not upset; you didn't hurt me," he says again. With how distraught Stan seems to be, repetition is really the only thing that'll make it better. He just has to let Stan know that he's okay, and that Stan didn't do anything wrong. "I'm not upset with you, but we should sit down, okay?" he says, intending to go sit on the edge of his mattress.**

Walking over to his bed with him, Stan sat down on the edge and then leaned on Craig as he stared at the wall. Really, he had calmed down now, even if he didn't want to tell Craig what was going through his head. He could hint at it, and he was somehow certain Craig already knew what he was thinking. With a frown, he sighed, and then said, "I think it would have been better if he just left my arm broken."

"**Why would that be better at all?"Craig asks, wrapping an arm around Stan's back as Stan leans on him. He's not sure exactly what Stan is trying to get at, but he knows it has something to do with Damien and therefore not good at all. Especially not when it involved Stan remaining hurt. "I like you in one piece, thank you very much," he says, turning his head to press a kiss to the top of Stan's. He lets himself linger there, just being that much closer to Stan. This shit… needs to end. It hasn't even been a full day; Hell, Damien hasn't even called them yet, and it's already this bad.**

"Well if he didn't heal my goddamn arm, then it would stay broken and he couldn't break it again if he wanted." He sighed again when he felt Craig's lips pressing against the top of his head, and then how he stayed there...it made him feel even worse for what he almost did, but he wasn't going to bring that up again. No, Craig understood.

"After you told me anything meant anything...he could call me up and say he wanted to break every bone in my body and reheal it ten times, and I'd have to do it." He sounded miserable as he moved his head towards Craig, putting his face on his shoulder - which moved Craig's lips to his forehead. He nuzzled the other slightly as he said,

"I don't want to do anything...especially not if he's going to fuck me like Christophe said he might."

**Craig's teeth clench when Stan mentions fucking. Craig had been worried about that, truthfully, and now that Stan said it out loud, he doesn't know what to do with his thoughts. And **_**Christophe**_** said it, too? Christophe actually knows the fucker pretty well… but then again, Damien never did it to Christophe, right? Maybe he won't do it to Stan, either. That's actually a pretty valid point.**

"**Maybe he won't ask for anything like that. Christophe said he's been dealing with this asshole for ten years, and he hasn't complained about… that," he says, not wanting to say 'rape' out loud. Stan is his fucking boyfriend, after all, he doesn't want to think about the two in the same sentence.**

"Yeah, but Christophe said he was never stupid enough to get in a contract with a demon...and I am. I'm a fucking idiot." Stan mumbled crossly, his eyes closing as he tried to not think about getting raped. It was probably not on the top of the worst Damien could do to him, but it was way up there.

"Can we just lay on the bed for a few days...I don't want to go anywhere. Ever."

**Thinking about Christophe makes Craig, well, think about Christophe. The conversation they'd had earlier today makes Craig seriously wonder if Damien doesn't have some kind of weird affections for Christophe. If he doesn't there's no way Christophe would be in as good shape as he is. He vaguely wonders if they could somehow use that to their benefit, and then feel sick with himself for thinking about using another human being to save Stan.**

"**Yeah, let's lay down," he says, completely agreeing. He sees his phone, though, and notices the screen is lighting up. He grabs it off his night stand and sees Token's name. "Hey, it's Token, I'm just going to let him know we're alright, okay?" he says, starting to text.**

"Yeah..." Stan said quietly, wondering if he should check his phone. He hadn't heard the Silent Hill siren yet, so obviously Damien hadn't called him. Staring off at the bottom of the bed, curling up on his side as he slipped off his shoes from his feet without moving.

Maybe he was over thinking all of this. Maybe it was actually okay, and he could just forget about it tomorrow or something. Maybe he actually hadn't been stupid enough to piss off the antichrist, and it was just a bad dream.

**After a few minutes of texting, Craig sets his phone down with a sigh. What did he just do? He curls up next to Stan, feeling an odd sense of relief and also a great one of dread. Token had said he might be able to do something, and that's fucking fantastic. But still…**

"**I love you a lot, Stan," he says, hugging the other close to his body. He feels almost numb, not really sure what he should be feeling. He picks himself up a bit to give Stan a slow kiss. It's tender, and meant to let Stan know that everything was going to be okay. When he's done, he feels a little better, and curls back up to Stan's back. "Good night," he says.**

"Night," He said after returning the slow kiss, feeling sort of awkward after they had what had to be at least their tenth or fifteenth fight. Possibly the thirtieth, he wasn't exactly sure. Either way, he felt safe in Craig's room, and he actually felt like sleeping, which was great- he had been avoiding it forever. Breathing slowly, he drifted off with his head pressed back into Craig, liking the way the other fit with him.


	29. 06 03 2012

06.03.2012 (this log started with Damien, and shifted to Craig, so here's a little bonus interaction from the RP instead of just Stan/Craig~)

* * *

**Damien Thorne: **Stanley.

**Stan Marsh: **what

**Damien Thorne: **Your friends seem to think they can threaten me. You should come stay here for the night.

**Stan Marsh: **...what

**Damien Thorne: **Come stay here. So you can see him when he shows up.

**Stan Marsh: **see who

**Damien Thorne: **Does it matter?

**Stan Marsh: **you woke me the fuck up, jfc, yeah I would like to know who's threatening

**Damien Thorne: **You know what; don't come, I'll just call Craig

**Damien Thorne: **He'd be better at this, anyway

**Stan Marsh: **No

**Stan Marsh: **I'm coming

**Stan Marsh: **I muted his phone anyways

**Damien Thorne: **Are you trying to get him in trouble?

**Stan Marsh: **No.

**Stan Marsh: **If I'm coming there's no reason he needs to

**Damien Thorne: **Right, sure

**Stan Marsh: **do I have a bed there or should I grab a sleeping bag.

**Damien Thorne: **You can sleep in mine

**Stan Marsh: **...no

**Damien Thorne: **Yes

**Stan Marsh: **are you sleeping in it too

**Damien Thorne: **Are you serious?

**Stan Marsh: **I'm serious

**Stan Marsh: **Look, I'll sleep on the couch

**Damien Thorne: **Eh, suit yourself.

**Stan Marsh: **how long do I have to stay.

**Damien Thorne: **Hmm, til breakfast

**Stan Marsh: **Can I leave around 8

**Damien Thorne: **Sure

**Stan Marsh: **am I making breakfast?

**Damien Thorne: **No

* * *

**Stan Marsh: ***phone call

**Damien Thorne: **-answers- Yes?

**Stan Marsh: **I hit a deer.

**Damien Thorne: **And?

**Stan Marsh: **The truck is flipped. I'm stuck.

**Damien Thorne: **You're stuck.

**Stan Marsh: **Yes. I would have called 911, but you would have thought I was skipping out.

**Damien Thorne: **You are such a fucking moron. I'll come get you.

**Stan Marsh: **I was texting while driving, I didn't see the goddamn deer.

**Damien Thorne: **You're still an idiot. Where the fuck are you?

**Stan Marsh: **Like one of the back roads, I don't fucking remember. I turned and hit the son of a bitch.

**Stan Marsh: **Probably like three minutes from the apartment complex.

**Damien Thorne: **Alright. -hangs up-

* * *

_Damien is a little irritated with the complete idiocy that is Stan Marsh hitting a goddamned deer, but he doesn't let it get to him. No, Damien won't be getting pissed with Stan anymore; that's reserved for someone else, now._

_He exits his apartment and makes his way through the streets, looking for Stan's truck along the main road. He finally spots it, completely turned over on the side of the road, surrounded in glass, front end totally smashed in. He approaches and sees Stan inside._

_Not caring for anything Stan might have to say, he pushes aside some of the metal and pulls Stan out. He hefts Stan into his arms and begins to carry him back to his apartment._

Not refusing the help, Stan did however look extremely grumpy when Damien held him in his arms. Just when he thought it couldn't get any more awkward, great. The minute the other moved him, he felt the pain from the crash radiating dully, and he was a bit dizzy. The shards of glass from the driver's side window and the front window were embedded in his skin, and he was pretty sure he was bleeding on his leg, but he really didn't want to think about that right now. No, he was not happy, and he would rather glare off to the side, avoiding looking at Damien.

Normally he wouldn't have said anything, but he decided to say something after a minute of walking.

"Sorry. I wouldn't have texted while driving but it was Kenny and we sort of had a fight earlier, so it was important."

"_I don't give a fuck," Damien says, really not caring why Stan got in the crash. He just wants to get back to his apartment. He really doesn't take threats seriously, so he's not worried, he still wants Stan in his apartment. What a perfect bargaining piece, just in case. If anyone has any real threats against him, he'll just use Stan as a sort of hostage. He gets back to his apartment and kicks it open, not even having shut the door completely when he left. No one would go in his apartment anyway._

Resuming his sulking, Stan didn't look at Damien and instead stared off to the side. Even when the pain increased, he bit his tongue so he didn't say anything about it. Maybe he should have called Kyle. His cell was in his pocket, so he wondered if he should. Maybe he needed to bring Kyle into this. ...no, he really didn't want to. Kyle never did well with these situations either. Maintaining his silence, he waited for the other to put him down.

_Damien kicks his door shut behind him and then all but drops Stan on the couch. He looks down at him for a second, examining the damage, before he walks away. He's thirsty, and he wants some goddamned juice. After a minute in the kitchen he comes back. Wordlessly, he puts his hands on Stan. He works each injured part of him, focusing until he's healed. A few broken ribs; a fracture in his skull, a giant gash on his leg, etc. He also removes all of the glass; it seeming to push itself from his skin as he heals other parts of Stan's body._

_When he's finally done, he stands and looks down at Stan again. "Don't get fucking hut again, I might not be as nice next time," he says, in reference to his healing. He really only did it because he doesn't want a broken servant. That, and if anyone shows up tonight, Stan can't already be hurt or he won't be a valuable hostage._

Throughout the whole 'touching everywhere' thing, Stan focused on the ceiling. Every day it amazed him; he didn't think things could get any more awkward for him, and then...low and behold, they did. Like the Antichrist touching him. _Everywhere_. Well, just the spots where he was injured, but that still covered a lot of area. And perhaps the most awkward part of it was that it felt good. Goddamnit.

Looking towards him after, he frowned at his comment, but said, "I won't." Then he pulled himself up, flexing his hand before he reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone. Dialing the car insurance company, he reported the accident, and then tried to poorly explain why he wasn't at the accident, and where his car was at. They agreed to tow it though, and he said thank you and hung up.

"So do you want me to sleep in your bed," He said rather straightforwardly, not really confident in what he was saying. He didn't want the other pissed off, and if this was some sort of weird demand, then fine, he'd do it to avoid Craig getting hurt.

"_Since you offered," he says, cocking his head before starting to walk, to indicate Stan to follow him. He leads the way back to his room and flips on a light. He makes his way over to his dresser, not actually caring if Stan is in the room or not, and changes into night pants and a t-shirt. Once changed he goes to turn of the light, ready to go the fuck to bed already._

Stan followed the other, and looked away towards a wall when he started abruptly changing without any warning. With a frown, he had the moment to look down to his own clothes - torn, bloody. Glancing upwards, he watched the other approach the light, and he said, "Wait..um, can I have clothes, please. I don't think you want me in your bed in this." He motioned downwards at his wrecked outfit.

_Damien gives Stan a once over, eyeing his bloodied clothing. Truthfully, he couldn't give less fucks if Stan laid in his bed like that, and he considers telling Stan to just go nude if it bothers him so much. But, again, if need be, Stan can't look hurt. And Stan looks like he's been through Hell._

_Ha._

"_Take whatever you want," he says, turning to flop down in his bed. He shoves his arms under his pillow, laying on his stomach without bothering with blankets. He always gets too warm, anyway; he's quite hot-blooded. "Just turn of the light before you come to bed."_

_He purposefully used the term 'come to bed' because he has to make things as awkward for Stan as possible before the night is over. He settles his head comfortably into his pillow before closing his eyes._

Slipping off his shoes, he put them next to the door and then took off his socks. Everything had dried blood on it, and it was disgusting. He walked quietly over to the dresser, and eventually pulled out a black shirt and a black pair of night pants. Pulling off his own shirt and pants, he replaced them with Damien's clothes, even though his eye twitched as he put them on. He could only imagine Craig's face if he told him he wore Damien's clothes. He didn't want to imagine Craig's face if he found he was going to sleep in his bed. In fact, he didn't know what his own face would look like when he had to lay next to Damien.

Pacing back over to the light switch, he turned it off. His heart sunk as he was immersed in darkness, and he couldn't help but stand there for a few minutes, silently wishing he had a heart attack so he wouldn't have to go through with sleeping next to Damien. When it didn't happen, and he felt too much time had passed for it to seem normal, he walked over to the bed and climbed onto the side Damien wasn't. He wasn't using blankets, so Stan didn't bother to pull on them - he was sort of a blanket hog anyways, and he didn't want to piss Damien off unknowingly.

Rolling on his side so he hugged the side of the bed, he stared off until his eyes adjusted. He missed his Craig.

After drifting to sleep, Stan rolled over towards Damien. He was actually searching for blankets, but when he found the other was a suitable heat source, his first sleepy instinct was to cuddle the hell out of whatever was next to him. So he curled up next to Damien, his eyes still closed as he fell into deep sleep.

_Damien wakes early in the morning, probably around 5am. He's always an early riser; doesn't sleep much. What he wasn't expecting, though, was to wake to Stan being cuddled into his chest. Well that's… interesting. He just stares for what's probably a full minute, wondering why the fuck Stan is so close to him when he just broke Stan's arm. Snuggling doesn't exactly seem like something one does with someone who threatens their life on a daily basis._

_Draping an arm around Stan's shoulders for effect, he says, "Wake up, dumbfuck." Normally he wouldn't care to just get up and leave Stan on his own – there's nothing in his house he's afraid of Stan seeing or anything – but Stan's reaction is just going to be priceless. Especially since Stan did it himself._

Being that it was extremely early, and Stan was exhausted, his brain wasn't quiet awake when Damien demanded it. In fact, he kept his eyes closed, and he couldn't really remember if he heard Craig talk. Did he say dumbfuck? That was sort of rude. Well he was a fuckface.

"Mmmmmm...Craig...sleep." If he had been a little more aware of his surroundings, he would have realized that this wasn't Craig - but he hadn't opened his eyes in hopes he was going to sleep in if he just shut up the offending party. Why was Craig up so goddamn early, anyways? He always bitched at Stan for waking up early, now he was bitching when he woke up early. What a hypocrite.

He moved his arm upwards, finding Damien's shoulder, and then slipped his hand around to rub the back of his neck for a moment and toy gently with his hair; and then his arm went limp again as he went drifting back to sleep.

_Damien smirks at the response he receives. He'd been more expecting Stan to flee and shout, but this was interesting too. Stan even played with his hair, aw, how disgustingly adorable. This will be fun._

"_You want to sleep more?" he asks, rubbing his hand along Stan's back. He slowly lets it drift downward, toward the small of his back, and then up his side, caressing him. His hand slides back down to Stan's hip, the tips of his fingers dipping beneath the waist line of – well – his own pants, that Stan is wearing._

"_Because I want you to wake up."_

Stan only heard 'wake up' again, and now he felt Craig's hand on his hip. Goddamnit, not only was he up, but he was fucking horny too? Did he take viagra or something before bed? Was he high again?

"Goddamnit Craig, I'll blow you in like three hours, just let me sleep," He said hotly, his voice stern as he kept his eyes shut. He was still optimistic that he would get in another four hours. It was really cruel Craig had gotten him used to sleeping in and now was trying to wake him up, the bastard.

_Damien actually laughs at that. "You will?" he asks, his voice full of a high about of humor. His hand is still on Stan's hip, and he presses his fingers in teasing circles, just under the waist band. "I didn't know you liked me that much, but hey, more power to you."_

_This is just too good. Stan didn't even recognize his voice after the second time he'd spoken, and what's more he'd even gotten angry, still thinking he was Craig. What a fucking kick._

Maybe before the words sounded a bit strange, but Stan could still sleepily pass it as Craig. However, when Damien laughed, he froze, and almost didn't want to open his eyes. At that moment, he realized that he didn't smell Craig, he didn't feel Craig's soft hair, and now, as he opened his eyes - ...that was not fucking Craig.

Staring with a look of sheer horror on his face, his lower lip trembled as he tried to say, "No," but it came out as more of a squeak, and he slowly moved his hand away from Damien's neck. Drawing it back towards himself, his eyes slowly moved to look at the arm Damien was using to touch his hip. His heart had slowed down to the point it hurt because he was so afraid.

_Damien watches as Stan slowly opens his eyes, realization washing over him. An overly amused grin spreads across his face as Stan draws his arm back. He wonders exactly what Stan is thinking, or even if it's anything more than 'ohshitohshitohshit.' When Stan squeaks, it's about all Damien can do to not break out laughing again._

"_Morning," he says, giving Stan's hip a taunting squeeze before retreating his hand. He sits up and stretches his arms over his head, hearing his back give a satisfying _pop_. He stands up off of the bed and makes his way over to the door._

"_I'm taking a shower. I don't care what you do, but don't leave," he warns._

He breathed in sharply when Damien squeezed his hip, and he was almost delirious with shock. How could he be so stupid? He couldn't remember when he rolled over, or even when the conversation started - he had been drifting in and out, he was so damn tired...but now he could only feel his heart desperately pumping, trying to get back to an even rhythm even though he was terrified.

When the other got up and left the bed, he stayed there, wondering if he meant don't leave the bed. It could have been don't leave the bed, but then again, he said he didn't care what he did. Now confusion replaced his fear, and he wasn't sure what to do. So he just laid there, his hands pulled up to his chest, curled in a half ball.

_Damien takes about 20 minutes in the shower before he shuts the water off. He grabs a towel and ruffles his hair, trying to get rid of most of the excess water before wrapping the towel around his waist. He makes his way back into his room, and somehow isn't surprised to see Stan still laying in his bed. Again, he doesn't care, and Stan's back is turned anyway, so he slips his towel off and gets dressed. "You don't have to lay there like that; come watch the news," Damien says blandly, leaving the room again to go sit on his couch._

Once Damien left the room, Stan walked over to his pants and picked them up to fold them. He grabbed his phone, and looked at it. At this hour, who would he call to pick him up who wouldn't freak out? Everyone was on that stupid trip... With a sigh, he picked up his shirt and then walked over and jumped them on top of his shoes, before he walked over to the couch. He didn't sit on it though. Instead, he asked, "May I sit on the couch?"

"_Why couldn't you?" Damien asks, glancing up from the television to Stan with a raised eyebrow. He just stares until he sits, and then turns his attention back to the television. He flips through the channels until he hits one that seems good enough for the day. He wants news, but he doesn't always watch the same station. He just wants the information without all the added bullshit, so it depends on the day what he watches. He focuses on the TV for a few minutes before reaching over the side of the couch to grab his laptop. He opens it and types in his password._

Stan was tense for a few minutes after sitting on the edge of the couch, one arm up so he could lean his head against his palm. After a few minutes of news, he was starting to zone out. Around this time, if he wasn't with Craig - which then he would be sleeping - he usually had coffee and was making breakfast or had breakfast made for him. So just sitting down and watching tv droning on was making him doze off.

As soon as he started falling asleep, his eyes shut - he started tilting off the side of the couch he was leaning on. It startled him and he snapped awake, probably jumping a bit as he narrowed his eyes at the tv. Goddamnit, he was too damn tired for the news. He usually read google news, if even that, so he didn't have to listen to poorly delivered information that was probably coated with lies.

Not wanting to draw attention to himself, even though he already almost jumped off the edge of the couch, he slouched against the couch and started to doze off again.

_Damien flips the channel a few more times after a while passes, trying to find a better station. He looks over at Stan and notices him napping, or, what looks to be napping. He considers waking him up again, just to be a dick, but he has nothing for Stan to be doing, and he's busy, so whatever, let the kid sleep. He just turns his attention back to his computer and tunes his ears to the television._

Around seven forty five, Stan was startled by his phone buzzing. He woke up and looked around for a moment, his eyes narrowed as he realized where he was. With a small sigh, he picked up his phone and checked - Craig. Great, this would be a wonderful conversation. He wasn't going to lie though, he really had no reason to. Sending off a few texts, he fell silent.

_As if he knew, Damien shuts his laptop just as there's a knock on the door. He looks up toward the door, and then at Stan. "Get that," he says, drawing his legs up onto the couch to sit in a more comfortable position. He knows that it's Craig with breakfast, but he has no idea what Craig decided to bring. He hopes it's not something shitty, but he never specified what he wanted, so it pisses him off that he can't do anything about it if it's not what he wants._

Still wearing Damien's clothes, Stan lazily pulled himself off the couch and sulked over to the door. He opened it, hoping Craig wasn't too pissed.

**As soon as the door opens, and Craig sees Stan, he pulls him into his arms. He lets the McDonald's bag hang from his hand behind Stan as he holds him for a minute before letting go and actually entering the apartment. Actually looking at Stan now, he notices that Stan isn't in his own clothing. That… kind of pisses him off. What kind of things is Damien making Stan do? Not that he wasn't already pissed off. Stan came over here without him, and then got in a fucking accident and didn't even so much as send him a text.**

**He walks over to the couch and holds out the bag for Damien to take. "I didn't know what you wanted, so I just got a bunch of shit. Enjoy," he says, all as flat as can be. He's resisting sarcasm, and there's no way he's happy to be there, so flat is his default.**

_Damien takes the bag from Craig and looks inside. He doesn't actually care what's in it, though, because all McDonald's tastes the same. He sets it on the couch next to him and just stares between the two of them for a second. "You can go now," he says dismissively, reaching in the bag and taking out a McGriddle._

"_Oh, and Craig," he starts, looking back at him. "Stan owes you a hummer in about.." he pauses to check his phone. "Actually, now. Enjoy the road head; you're welcome."_

_He turns his attention back to his television and starts into his sandwich, waiting for them to leave._

Hugging Craig tightly, he studies the other's face when he looked at his clothes. He debated with himself whether he would tell Craig about it, but five seconds after Craig handed off the bag of food, he heard Damien comment on what he was thinking about. Instead of responding, he walked into the bedroom, grabbed his dirty clothes and slipped on his bloody shoes, and then went out the door, waiting on the other side for Craig. He really didn't want to be in Damien's apartment anymore.

"**He… what? Craig asks, slowly turning his eyes on Stan as Stan walks further back into the apartment. He looks back at Damien with a raised brow, but Damien's already started ignoring them. When Stan walks past again, he follows him out the door. He shuts it behind him and gives Stan a bit of a confused look. "Explanation?" he asks, not sure which emotion should be winning out, or even which one is.**

Stan looked at Craig with a frown, hugging his soiled clothes to his chest with one arm as he motioned for them to continue walking. "I don't want to talk when he can hear through the door, let's go to the car." He gave a pleading look to Craig with his eyebrows raised and pressed together, and then turned to walk down the steps and go to the car. There he would actually tell Craig the truth, he thought. There really wasn't any reason not to.

**Craig follows Stan and makes it out to his car. He opens his door and slides into the driver's seat, not saying anything. He still doesn't know what to think about any of this, and he doesn't want to talk because he's not sure what he'll say or if he'll mean it. He'll just wait for Stan to say what he needs to say, or rather… what he's **_**going**_** to say.**

"After the accident I was pretty fucked up," Stan began, pausing for a minute. How the hell do you describe what Damien did? "He sort of touched me everywhere that I had an injury, and it was like...not in the general area here," He motioned to his groin. "But more like, everywhere else. Uh...Then he told me to sleep in his bed, and he's got a twin, so I just hugged the side when I fell asleep. And when I woke up I really thought it was you next to me, and I was really fucking tired, so I just wanted you to go back to sleep, so I started doing...you know, what I do when I want you to shut up."

Stan hesitated, realizing it sounded pretty mean. With his face turning red, he looked out the window as he said, "You know...Uh, playing with your hair..and offering a blow job..I mean, I'm sorry, I really wouldn't have if I knew where I was, but when I did realize, I thought I was going to die. Seriously. I thought my heart stopped, it hurt really, really bad."

**Craig doesn't talk for a minute, not sure exactly what parts he's most pissed about. Fist Stan left without telling him, to see fucking **_**Damien**_**. Then Stan silenced his phone; what if something important happened? Then Stan got in an accident and didn't even text him. Then Damien apparently touched him, **_**a lot**_**. Then they slept in the same bed. And then – ugh what the fuck. Why the fuck does this shit happen?**

"**You okay?" he finally decides to ask, not wanting to show how pissed off he actually is. He starts the engine and shifts the car into gear, pulling out of the parking lot. He just wants to go the fuck home.**

"I'm fine, Craig." Stan assured the other, though he realized he had completely left out the part with Damien carressing him. He knew it mattered, but he had already almost died in one car accident and he didn't want Craig to flip the car out of rage.

"Let's just go home and hide, okay...I don't want to think about this anymore. I need to cuddle something fucking fluffy."

"**Yeah," is all Craig says, continuing to drive. Just… the more distance he can put between them and Damien, the better. He really just wants to go home and smoke, but he's only done it that once since Stan told him to stop, and he doesn't think Stan would appreciate him doing it in front of him anyway. So no, he'll just sit in his room and continue to be pissed off. Well, maybe not. Hopefully just laying there with Stan will help, or playing with Stripe or something.**

**He pulls into his driveway and shuts off the car. He gets out and starts toward his door, waiting for Stan before he actually opens it.**

Stan got out, and took his dirty clothes with him, still holding them in his arms. That's when he realized he had walked out with Damien's clothes. "Aw, fuck." Stan said as he looked down, and then sighed as he walked to the front door, stepping inside. Once they both were in he turned to Craig and said, "I'm going to go shower and then put on your clothes, okay?"

He then picked up his shirt, and let it hang down a bit so Craig could see all of the blood on it. Glancing over at Craig, he frowned as he said, "I'm sorry...I would have texted or something, but I didn't...ugh. I..well, you did the same fucking thing, you didn't tell me you were taking him breakfast. But okay, this was worse, considering this looks like I went through a paper shredder." He looked at the shirt again, sort of amazed he lived through something that ruined his clothes.

"And can I throw these out somewhere? I'm not taking them home."

"**It's fine, yeah, you can take a shower," he says, still flat. He gives Stan a hug and takes his clothes. "I'll get rid of these," he says starting to walk away. He's just going to go throw them in the garbage can outside if Stan doesn't want them anyway. And really, he'll probably throw Damien's fucking clothes out too, once Stan takes them off. Ugh, why is he so pissed off? Stan even apologized, even though none of this is most likely Stan's fault, so why is he still mad?**


	30. 06 03 2012 a

06.03.2012 (This is just the convo from the previous chapter)

* * *

**Craig Tucker: **- Stan, where the fuck did you go? Are you okay?

**Stan Marsh: **- yeah I'm fine

**Craig Tucker: **- Why did you leave without telling me?

**Craig Tucker: **- ...and why is my phone muted?

**Stan Marsh: **- damien said one of my friends was threatening him so he wanted me to come over and sleep at his apartment. i'm fine, craig.

**Craig Tucker: **- You're there? I'm actually on my way, with McDonald's

**Stan Marsh: **- ...why.

**Craig Tucker: **- Food call?

**Stan Marsh: **- ...when did you get that. why didn't you tell me.

**Craig Tucker: **- Why didn't you tell me when he called you in the middle of the night?

**Stan Marsh: **- because I wanted you to sleep.

**Stan Marsh: **- i crashed on the backroads by the way. hit a deer. I'm fine.

**Craig Tucker: **- So you left without telling me, after I told you I wanted to go with you, and then you crashed, and still didn't call me.

**Stan Marsh: **- i was texting kenny and i wasn't paying attention, I know I'm an idiot.

**Stan Marsh: **- your phone was muted. how was I supposed to tell you.

**Craig Tucker: **- And why was my phone muted

**Stan Marsh: **- because I wanted you to sleep in

**Stan Marsh: **- look, can you just see if token has something worked out, because I'm fucking terrified and I want to go home.

**Craig Tucker: **- I'll talk to him later. I'm outside the apartment, I'll be up in a second.

**Stan Marsh: **- okay.

**Stan Marsh: **- I'm going home with you. my mom is going to be pissed, I didn't call her to tell her my truck was flipped.


	31. 06 04 2012

06.04.2012 (More bonus interaction, starting out with Token~ I fucking love Toke, you guys don't even understand. Token IS swag.)

* * *

**Token Black: **Bro, you there?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, hey

**Token Black: **I need you and Stan at my place.

**Craig Tucker: **When?

**Token Black: **Now

**Token Black: **I got an email from Jesus this morning.

**Token Black: **I asked him about that incantation and he said that it has some side effects to using it, but I'm just going to use it as a playing chip when I call Damien in thirty minutes.

**Craig Tucker: **You're calling Damien?

**Token Black: **Yeah, bro.

**Craig Tucker: **Uh, are you sure it's going to work?

**Token Black: **I'm positive, bro. Just get over here. You guys can eat pizza while I go in the study and make the call.

**Craig Tucker: **Uhhh, alright, we can do that. What did you find out?

**Token Black: **I'll tell you when you're here, just get over here.

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, we'll be there in a few minutes

**Token Black: **Okay. The gate password is 0455201. It closes two minutes after opening so go through quick.

* * *

"**Token says we should go to his house because he has an idea," Craig says, sticking his phone back in his pocket and looking up to Stan. Spending some bro time with Stripe had made him relax quite a bit, and seeing Stan with Stripe in his lap - he just can't be pissed off anymore. "He says there's pizza," he adds, leaning forward and scratching Stripe between his ears. Yeah, there's no way he could be pissed off with this sitting in front of him.**

Stan continued to idly pet Stripe, and then finally lifted the guinea pig off his lap when Craig said there was pizza. With a glance at Craig, he wondered if he should tell him he didn't want to go - after all, he was iffy on Token. Was he the one who threatened Damien last night? Then he blamed Token for his hip getting grabbed, and he really didn't want to see him then.

He got up anyways, and said, "Okay." Walking from the room and to Craig's car, he got another text from his mother. One of these times he was pretty sure she'd walk over to Craig's - maybe she had already been to Kyle's.

**Craig gets in his car and starts it up. Before he goes, though, he leans across his gear shift to Stan, and pull shim into an weird one-armed hug. "I'm sorry I was so pissed off all day," he says, not knowing if Stan even noticed. Craig knows he's hard to read, but he doesn't know exactly how hard. Does Stan always know, or does he have no idea? He places a quick apologetic kiss to Stan's temple before retreating back to his own seat and shifting into gear to go to Token's.**

"It's okay," Stan said, sounding a bit depressed. "I deserved that. I shouldn't have left without telling you...I just didn't want you hurt."

He looked out the window as Craig pulled out of the driveway, and continued to watch objects pass by. Really, he was feeling incredibly guilty for what he did. Every time he intended to go for bravery, but it always seemed like stupidity to him. Or were those two interchangeable? Maybe he wasn't confusing them - maybe bravery was stupidity.

"**Yeah, you shouldn't have. …but it's okay; I'm over it. Just tell me next time, okay?" he says. He takes a turn, making his way to Token's house. He drives quietly for the rest of the way, and when he gets to Token's house he takes out his phone to see the code. After entering the gate code, he pulls up into the circle drive and gets out of the car. He doesn't know if Stan's ever been to Token's house, so he's sure it's a little overwhelming. Well, maybe. He doesn't know where Stan's been, but Token's house is pretty damned big.**

"Damn, I forget every time that there's a house this big in South Park." Stan mutters as they pull up the drive, and then climbs out of the car.

_Token walked out the front doorway when he saw them pull up the drive. He was wearing a red blazer with black slacks, and a nice cashmere black shirt. He actually looked amazingly well groomed today. He walked over to Craig and patted him on the back as soon as he was out, and then said, "You need to get inside, and I'm going to lock the doors. The windows are bullet proof, but I'm not exactly sure if we'll need to worry about that right now. But yeah, you might be spending the night here." _

Stan narrowed his eyes at Token as he heard him talking to Craig. Bullet proof? What?

**Craig raises an eyebrow at Token. "Bro, what exactly are you planning that we need to worry about bullet proof windows? Care to tell me what's up?" he asks, reaching for Stan's hand as he goes to walk inside.**

**He looks over at Stan, but gets a little confused at Stan's glare. "You okay?" he asks.**

Stan reached out for Craig's hand, tightening his grip the minute he had his palm around the other's. "Yeah, fine."

_"Don't worry about it - look, there's pizza in the dining room, just come in," He walked the two of them through the door, and locked it behind him. Plugging in the code for the front door as well, he turned on the alarm and then motioned for the other two to go further in the house. "Bro, you know where the dining room is, so I'm going to be in the study. Just don't worry about it, I'll update you after I'm done with a business call, okay?"_

_He walked off into the house, heading for the study - where he locked the door behind him in case Craig tried following him in._

**Craig wants to ask more questions, but Token pretty much just walks of. "Well fuck, I have no idea what he's doing," he voices out loud. But it's Token; he knows he can trust Token, so he tries not to worry too much about it.**

**Leading Stan by his hand, he goes to the dining room to find the pizza. "You want?" he asks. They can take it with them wherever they go – which will probably be the movie theater room. While they're in Token's house, he knows they're safe, so he wants to spend as much time not worrying as possible with Stan, and what better way to do that than to pretend to watch movies together?**

"Yeah, I kind of want the pizza," Stan said, wondering what Token was doing. He really, really hoped he wasn't going to die because Token said something wrong. That would be his luck, though. He tried pulling out of Craig's hand so he could go for the pizza, but found the other was holding on tight, so he stayed put. "Um, should we get plates?"

"**No, we don't need plates," he says, picking up the box in his free hand and leading Stan to the movie room. "I plan on feeding you anyway," he says. He hadn't really thought about it before he said it; he just wanted to say something that was weirdly… he doesn't really know. Couple-y and dumb. Because they've been depressed, and he's trying not to be pissed, and apparently feeding Stan pizza is what his brain wants him to do, so that's what he's going to do.**

**He guides Stan into a room and flips on a light. "Pick a movie," he says, eyeing the walls. There's probably every movie ever produced in this fucking room.**

Catching the 'couple-y' ness of Craig's comment, Stan rolled his eyes as he walked with Craig. "Like feeding pizza to one another is so romantic." It was meant more light-heartedly then as a scathing remark. Upon arriving in the personal movie theater, he looked around for a little bit. At some point in his life he had been in here - probably during one of Token's huge birthday parties, but he couldn't remember. Token hung out more with Kyle than him. Picking the notebook off the wall, he walked over to Craig and handed it to him, and then reached out to take the pizza box.

**Craig keeps the box in his hand, not wanting Stan to carry it because… he doesn't know, but he just turns to leave the room and makes his way to the next one, the theater. Saying the first thing that comes to mind, he ends up responding, "Well I could just feed it to you with my tongue, if that's more romantic." That's actually kind of… gross, but it's not like they haven't swapped saliva on numerous occasions anyway. And Stan has all kinds of weird kinks, so maybe sharing food is one of them.**

"I'm kinky, not a slut." Stan said plainly as he reached for the box of pizza again. Goddamnit, why was he refusing him pizza? Was this some sort of foreplay?

"Do you think we're going to die tonight?" He asked Craig, and then reached down to check his phone. No messages. "Token sounded like he expected WWIII to start, and if that's so, I think we should eat this pizza and then have sex for the next however many hours until we die."

**Craig takes Stan into the theater, and there's only a few dim lights. "Hmm, no to the dying, yes to the sex. Token knows what he's doing, whatever it is, and we have until he's done to – wait, no, we don't have any lube," he says, actually highly disappointed. They haven't actually had sex in several days, and Craig misses Stan. "Maybe we should just start with the pizza. Sit down in one of the seats and I'll put the movie in," he says, taking the movie from Stan and looking at it for the first time. Really? **_**Really**_** Stan? How can that kid deny being gay?**

Stan didn't look phased by his movie choice, he thought it was normal. He walked over to one of the seats and sat down, waiting for Craig to give him the goddamn pizza. And they didn't have stupid lube, which meant... That's when he remembered...

"...wait, I have vaseline." He said, and reached into his pocket, and pulled out a tube. "I was in your bathroom this morning and saw it and I put it in my pocket to put on my hands. I was going to return it," He said in haste, just in case Craig called him a klepto.

**Craig sticks in the movie and goes to sit in the recliner next to Stan. "You took vasaline from my bathroom?" he asks, not sure how he feels about that, but also not really caring. Stan could probably take anything from his house, and he's not sure he'd care. "I'm not sure, Stan, I always buy regular lube…" he says, not actually sure what's safe to use and what isn't. Like something are painfully obviously not safe, but things like vasaline… seem okay? Is that okay.**

**Either way, he sets the pizza in his lap, and as the movie starts to play he leans over toward Stan. He takes Stan's chin in his now freed hand and brings him in for a firm kiss. Even if they can't use the vasoline, they can still completely ignore the movie and make out the whole time.**

Inwardly happy that Craig didn't care he lifted vaseline from his house, Stan leaned into the kiss, pressing his lips against Craig with a certain fervor and then put one arm around to play with the hair right above Craig's neck. His other hand was going in the pizza box, and he started undoing the cardboard sides as he tried to sneak a piece. Seriously, he was hungry. As he pulled away, he smiled deviously and then said, "Christophe said vaseline was okay."

"**Damn it, Stan," he mutters, frustrated that Stan left him for a slice of pizza. He slumps back down in his own chair and gets a slice to eat. "Why do you talk to him so much about us? I don't even want to know how much he knows about me," he says, taking a bite of his pizza. Christophe probably know everything from where his bite marks are to how big his fucking dick is, from how he was talking the other night. True, he was being vague, but he could tell that Stan talks a lot. He stares at the giant screen instead of at Stan, not really watching the movie, though. Seeing this once was one too many for Craig, anyway.**

_Token sent off a text to Craig. _

_- Craig, come to the study, I need to talk to you. Don't bring Stan._

"I don't tell him everything, god..we just talk." Stan muttered, picking up a slice and chewing on it bitterly. With his eyes on the screen, he watched the familiar intro - it was one of his guilty pleasure movies. He really did wonder what Craig thought about it, but this didn't seem like a good time to ask.

**Craig feels his phone vibrate in his pocket and he takes it out, hoping to fucking God that it's not Damien. When he sees Token's name, he's instantly relieved. "Hey, Token wants to see me for a second, so I'll be right back, okay?" he asks. He stands and leaves the room without giving Stan any real chance to protest. Token said not to bring Stan, and he really doesn't want to have to explain to Stan why he can't come. Well, Craig doesn't know why he can't come anyway, and that's even worse to try and explain.**

**He makes his way back through Token's house and to the study. He knocks, not knowing if it'll be unlocked or not. "It's me," he says.**

_Token got up from the chair he had been sitting in. After finishing the call, he had sat there for awhile, contemplating the situation, and what precisely he had said. Really, he thought he had done well considering what he had to work with. Walking leisurely over to the door, he unlocked it and opened it, waving Craig in._

_As soon as they were both sitting in the old-fashioned wooden chairs over by the bookshelves, he put his hands in a steeple against one another and then stared at Craig. _

_"Craig, I've got some news for you."_

**Craig walks into the room when the door is opened and follows Token to the chairs. He stares back at Token as he speaks. He mimics Token's posture, partly to be sarcastic because the slight tension in the room is already starting to get to him. Anything involving Damien is getting to him.**

"**Good news, I hope," he responds.**

_Without waiting any longer, Token finally dives into the topic at hand. _

_"Craig, right after I got that book from the museum, I emailed it to Jesus. The incantation said it could take away Damien's powers while on earth, in exchange for someone's soul. Jesus responded this morning and told me that such an incantation existed. So I called up Damien, and I told him I had the incantation on hand, that I'd use it if he didn't drop the deals he had with you two and leave you alone...I need you to message him and ask him if the deal is off, to clarify if this worked, but he told me he was going to drop the deal with both you and Stan. So send him a message, 'Is our deal canceled?' and then I'll tell you the rest after he responds."_

**Craig raises an eyebrow, wondering if Token really got it off that easily. Not that he wants Token to risk his fucking soul, but if all it took was the threat to throw Damien off then fuck, that was easy. "Okay," he says, shooting off a text to Damien.**

**- Are my deals off?**

_- Fucking yes, tell Token he can calm his fucking tits._

"**He says yes," he vocalizes, looking up at Token. "And the rest?"**

_"Okay, Craig. Get ready for this." Token leaned forwards, putting a hand on either side of the arm rests as he looked at Craig with the most serious expression ever._

_"...I didn't have the incantation. Ever. I just played hardball with the Antichrist and won."_

**Craig just stares at Token, a little dumbfounded. Token just risked a lot; if Damien ever finds out, Token will be **_**dead**_**. "Token, I can't believe…" he's stuck for a second, just staring at Token.**

**In a sudden uncharacteristic pounce, he's hugging the shit out of Token. "I fucking love you, bro, seriously, what the fuck is wrong with you? You know he's going to kill you if he ever finds out you were lying, right? What the fuck, Token. You just – what the fuck."**

**He continues to cling onto Token for a few more seconds before he really realizes what he's doing and backs off. "You just probably saved Stan's fucking life," he says, more than just a little happy to say it. Stan is going to be okay. He's not going to die. Or – anything. Stan is fucking safe.**

_Token laughed as Craig clung to him, and gave him an awkward pat on the back as he grinned. "Bro, you know I had it covered." As Craig backed off, he shrugged, putting his right ankle to his left knee as he leaned back in his chair. _

_"That's why I'm only telling you. We're not going to talk about the true story, we're just going to go with I have an incantation, and that's it. That's all Stan will know, and it'll probably go around the rumor mill at school, so I don't suspect many people will believe it. But you know the truth, and I know the truth, and Stan doesn't need to know - he's safer that way."_

_With a genuine smile, he added, "And bro, I would totally trololol the Antichrist any day for you and anyone you're dating. Just so you know."_

**Craig sits back in his chair, just grinning like a goddamn idiot. Token is the best fucking bro ever. He falters a bit at not being able to tell Stan, but he knows it's for the best Stan is a terrible fucking liar, and he doesn't ever want Stan to be pressured by it. Ignorance is bliss, and all that shit. So he just keeps right on being fucking happy.**

"**You are seriously the fucking best," he says, just continuing to look at Token in amazement. "You know I'd do fucking anything for you too, right?" he asks, and he totally means it. Token just risked himself to save Stan, and Craig, from the fucking Antichrist. "I'm so fucking happy right now, I'd probably even suck your dick if you fucking asked," he says, laughing a bit with the extreme weight that's been lifted from his shoulders. Holy fuck, he has to go tell Stan that the deals are off.**

_"Whoa, no homo, bro," Token joked, putting up his hands as if he were shocked. It was all out of fun though, he really wouldn't ask Craig for anything. But it did remind him he needed to have a really serious talk with Craig about offering up things that he didn't actually want to do._

_"Okay, bro. You need to sit." He said as he stood up, and guided Craig gently by the arm to sit back down in the chair. Crossing his arms over his chest, not meaning to be intimidating but perhaps coming off that way - he stared at Craig with a serious glint in his eyes. _

_"I'm going to be frank with you right now. You and Stan could have died, and that's not okay. When Stan does something stupid, you should never, ever sell your freedom to the Antichrist to try and cover up what Stan did. Because you know Stan is just going to go and make a deal himself, and I bet anything you made another deal, because you're just that way. You compete, even when it's not necessary or logical. You both would have ended up dead by the end of this week, that's why I stepped in. No one hurts my bro, okay. But this was unacceptable, Craig, and you know it. I don't want you to ever offer something that makes you uncomfortable, and even if Stan gets drunk off his ass and flirts with the devil, I want you to act out of intelligence, not desperation. Making a deal with the Antichrist was a stupid move, and if you ever do it again, I don't think I could ever respect you again for any decision you make. I feel that your freedom is an irreplaceable part of your happiness, and I couldn't watch you slowly deteriorating, even in that short amount of time. As for Stan, I need to talk to him too, but you needed to know that. From this point on, if Stan does something stupid and talks to Damien, come to me. Don't try to solve it through bandaid solutions, you're going to get yourself killed that way."_

**Craig sits back down as Token all but looms over him. Okay, that's Token's serious face; time to shut up and listen.**

**When Token is done with his lecture, Craig just continues to look up at him, wondering if he's truly done. When he decides that Token is, he just sighs and slumps back in his chair. "Yeah, I know, it was fucking stupid. But, I don't know, he was just so fucking depressed, and he kept drinking, and I thought he was going to get fucking raped or something, Token, and I don't know, I couldn't take it anymore. …But you're right; if anything happens again, I'll ask for help."**

**He stops to look back up at Token from where he'd been sulking. He hates when Token fucking lectures him because he knows it means he was being fucking stupid beyond belief. After a second, if only to break the serious air, he says, "I wasn't kidding though, I meant it; I'd seriously do anything for you, and Clyde, just like you'd do anything for us. It's called being a bro."**

**Thinking that he really still wants to see Stan, he stands again. "Now if I can go, I'd like to go tell Stan. And I don't have anything to put on the door, but I'm warning you, I'd wait like 45 minutes to come in the room."**

_Staring at Craig, he blinked several times before he said, "...__**Boy**__, did you just tell me you're going to go make love somewhere in my house?"_

_Token couldn't figure out how he just risked his life so Craig could go do his boyfriend under his parent's roof. Not only that, but Craig just banned him from the room. His mouth twitched - he was torn between smiling, frowning, and possibly letting his mouth go agape._

_He was all for giving Craig some alone time with Stan. But come on, this was his parent's house! Then again, he didn't want to kick them out...at least not until tomorrow, when he was sure Damien was keeping his end of the deal up. _

_"Bro, not cool. What room are you defiling?"_

**Craig gives Token a sly grin. "Ah, come on, you're not that offended. Your house would be proud to hold such a marvel," he says, voice laced with humor. "But really, we were in the theater room, and I don't even know if there will be any defiling happening, but I'm just keeping your eyes safe, bro. "**

**He starts to move toward the door, but keeps himself faced toward Token. "Besides you turned down my blow job, so someone has to get it, right? Too bad there's no cotton candy here," he says, with a devious smirk.**

**He snickers a bit at Token's face as he waves and slips out of the room.**

_Token's mouth went in a straight line as he furrowed his brow. _Craig, you troll_ - he thought. Seriously, Craig and Stan in his house doing unspeakable things. Well, he'd have to get him back for that one. Like in ten minutes._

_As soon as Craig left the room, Token walked back over behind the desk near the wall and said out loud to himself, "There __**is**__ cotton candy but I'm not telling you about it."_

**Craig quickly makes his way back through the house, shutting the door behind him when he gets back into the theater. He's so excited that he doesn't even care what he's doing as he climbs into Stan's lap. He doesn't even say anything, just abruptly straddles Stan's hips and attacks Stan's lips with his own. He presses Stan's shoulders back into the chair, and leans with all of his weight so that the chair easily reclines back. He's lucky the chairs are nice, or they could have just fallen over. He still doesn't care though and just continues to kiss Stan feverishly, effectively having climbed on top of him.**

**After what feels like full minutes, he finally manages to uncloud his brain enough to break their kiss and look down at Stan through half lidded eyes. "Mm, you're safe," he murmurs, bringing a hand away from Stan's shoulder to run through Stan's hair. He presses another kiss to Stan's forehead before leaning his own against it and closing his eyes.**

**He just lets himself sit there on Stan for a minute, breathing a bit heavily while he feels his heart race. Goddamn, he's so fucking pumped that they don't have to deal with Damien anymore.**

When he heard Craig arrive, he had just polished off four pieces of pizza in a sort of dazed gloom. He half-expected Token was going to tell Craig that this was their last day alive, and the other half of him wondered if Token was going to tell Craig that it was hopeless and the bullet proof glass really didn't keep demons out.

Then Craig climbed into his lap, straddled him and pressed his lips against Stan's mouth, which was still shut due to surprise. He slowly joined the make out session however, feeling the heat from Craig, and he moved his hands to Craig's hips when he started pressing him back in the reclining chair. Any hesitation he had earlier about doing it in Token's house dissipated as he felt the weight of Craig's slender body on his own.

When the other looked at him and said he was safe, he was sure he looked confused because that's what he felt immediately. Safe? What, were they going to live at Token's? Chills ran up his spine - a good thrill, not bad - as the other ran his hand through his hair. As their foreheads touched, he berated himself on the inside for his unstoppable reaction to the vague news.

"...Safe? What do you mean, safe? What did Token do? Are we going to die? What's the new deal?"

_Token picked up his phone and shot off a text to Craig._

_- Hey, Craig. There's five different types of lube in the box in the cabinet furthest from the tv, it's hidden behind all of the discs for all seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. And condoms, if you want to be safe. Have fun._

**Craig just shakes his head a bit when Stan starts to ask questions and opens his eyes again to look down at him. Their faces are extremely close, considering their foreheads are pressed together. "Yes, safe. No deals. Token. Badass. No Damien. Fucking kiss me again," he says, short and choppy, but that's all the necessary details, right? He drops his lips again, to meet Stan's in another heated kiss.**

**He feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket, but he ignores is. Actually, considering where he's sitting, Stan probably felt it too; which is kind of amusing, **_**considering where he's sitting**_**. He leaves the text unanswered, knowing that his phone will remind him again in a few minutes anyway. Right now he just wants to be with Stan, and he doesn't give a fuck what anyone has to say. He can care about it in a few minutes. So he just continues to kiss Stan, letting his tongue slide into the equation as well.**

All Stan got out of Craig's choppy message was that Token somehow pissed Damien off or killed him. Considering the latter was impossible, he was guessing Token pissed off Damien, which made his heart pound even more than it was with Craig all over him. But Craig's demand was powerful, and Stan went in for another round as he welcomed Craig's mouth on his.

When the phone buzzed, he breathed in sharply, because he wasn't expecting anything vibrating right now. He moved his hands forwards to Craig's thighs, holding them there for the duration of the buzzing as he kissed the other. His thumbs pressed in on Craig's inner thighs, while his fingers idly massaged the front. He ran his teeth over Craig's tongue, and then slowly pulled away, gently running the tips of his teeth over the surface and bottom. Then he started leaving a trail of kisses down the other's neck, ending near the top of his collar with a small nip.

**Craig actually groans into their kiss as Stan massages his thumbs into his inner thighs. He brings both hands up to run through Stan's hair and kisses him hard.**

"**Mmm, fuck," he says, as Stan kisses down his throat. Somehow this is a whole new angle on things, and Craig is really fucking enjoying it. "Stan, you – fuck," he mutters, as Stan nips at him. Why does everything feel this fucking good? Maybe it's just because he's so damn happy. He's invigorated, and all he wants is Stan. And Stan touching him and biting him, and Stan's kisses.**

**Craig bites lightly on his own lip as he rocks his hips against Stan's. It's almost jagged with his overwhelming desire; all Craig fucking wants is Stan.**

Reaching up as he went back to the same patch of skin and sucked on it gingerly, he placed his hand on the zipper and pulled it down. Working the skin in his mouth he started pushing the hoodie off of Craig, and then he managed to pull it off with little repositioning of Craig's arms. Then he went for the other's shirt, and pulled it over Craig's head. Throwing the articles on the empty recliners, he put his palms on Craig's bare chest, and ran them downwards - tracing the other's muscles with his fingertips as he looked at him with a half-lidded gaze.

"Want to wrestle naked to see who gets to top?"

**Craig lets Stan undress him as Stan continues to suck on his neck. He's not sure what exactly is going on, but it feels like Stan is… topping. How the fuck is this so natural right now? The idea actually isn't that terrible, and fuck, Craig would do just about anything with Stan right now because he's just fucking glad they're both safe and he even has the opportunity to be doing these things.**

**Stan's fingertips feel like they're burning on his skin as Stan runs them down his chest. "How about you tell me what you want and we just do it, because fuck, I don't even care right now, I just fucking want you," he says. And just then, his phone goes off again with his reminder alert as he leans in to suck on a patch of Stan's neck.**

"But we only have vaseline," He murmured, trailing his hands around to Craig's lower back as the other leaned in for his neck. Really, he hated that he thought of logistics of the act right now, because he wanted to undo Craig's pants and rip them off him. But there was no way he would ever do anything without lube or some sort of lube again. One hand ran its way up to Craig's shoulder as he leaned in, and trailed along his shoulder blade.

Before he was thinking that Craig might just be excited for nothing, but he realized as the other got increasingly more passionate that there might be something to be happy about. And this was making him extremely curious, but also extremely happy, just by default. It was starting not to matter - he had an extremely affectionate Craig on him after all, and he was enjoying it.

He reached under Craig's bottom, and then hauled him off his lap so he was standing. "Okay, strip." He demanded, and then removed his own shirt.

**Craig moves his legs so he can stand properly as Stan starts to move him. He begins to undo his pants, and for whatever reason reaches into his pocket to check his phone. What if it's Token saying he forgot to tell Craig something important? He smirks at him phone, not sure if Token is trying to be an ass or actually trying to be helpful, but either way it's useful information.**

**He tosses his phone onto and empty recliner and makes his way over to the indicated drawer. He shuffles around behind Buffy and – there it is. He takes the five bottles in hand and kicks the drawer shut with his foot. He drops the bottles in Stan's lap and says, "Pick one," before dropping his pants.**

**It's only after he's gotten rid of his boxers that he realizes that Stan's lap is now occupied, which is annoying. He gets back into his previous spot anyway, only sitting down further on Stan's thighs so that the selection of lubes is between them. "And you never told me what you wanted," he says, reaching forward and playing with the fastenings of Stan's jeans as he picks a lubricant.**

"Pick? What?" Stan said as he found the lubricant placed in his lap, and then realized Craig had somehow found Token's lube stash. ...it was sort of disturbing, but he was too turned on to care, really. Picking up a random tube of strawberry flavored lube, he threw the others on the floor and then reached over, using his fingers to wrap around Craig's behind, and to push him forwards. He knew he had to get his pants off, but the temptation of touching a completely naked Craig while he was still dressed was too much.

"Told you what I wanted?"

"**Yeah," Craig says, leaning in closer to Stan as he's scooted further into the other's lap. "You said you wanted to wrestle for top but," he stops playing with Stan's jeans and just pope the button. He drags the zipper down and sticks his hand inside, caressing Stan inside his boxers. "I really don't want to fight over it right now, I just want to fucking do it. So if you want top, then just tell me."**

**He leans in again to kiss along Stan's jaw. He makes it to just below his ear, and then starts down his neck before starting to suck on another patch of skin. He slowly works Stan in his hand, not wanting Stan to get **_**too**_** excited before anything good happens.**

Tensing up, he gripped Craig's backside with both hands instinctively. With a shakey exhale, he pulled his hand back - he was still holding the lubricant. Popping it open, he grabbed Craig's hand, and then pulled it back out as he squirted lubricant on his palm.

"You do that to me, and then I'll do you." He put lubricant on his hand, and then started slipping it underneath Craig, hoping the other lifted his hips so it made it considerably easier.

**Catching Stan's drift that he actually wants to try and top, He gets off of Stan for a moment to yank Stan's pants off, careful to try and not get the lube in his hand all over them. After removing his boxers as well, he puts himself back in Stan's lap, giving him a bit of a frenzied kiss. He's never been topped, so he's giving Stan a lot of trust in letting him do it. "Do you know what you need to do?" he asks, bringing his hand back down to touch Stan, slowly working the lube over him.**

Not objecting to losing his pants and boxers, Stan lifts his hips so the other can pull them off more easily. Then he took his hand to put it back underneath Craig, working his way to the back a little more eagerly, because Craig had blocked him once before.

"No, I'm not really...um. I was just going to...you know.." He pushed one finger in Craig's back entrance, and stared at him. "...you know, this."

**Craig clenches his teeth a bit at being entered. He'd been expecting it, he just hadn't quite been **_**expecting **_**it. "Yeah…" he says, acknowledging that Stan is doing it right while trying to keep his voice steady. "And you just… move it," he says, not sure if Stan knows or not, but taking the responsibility of being the awkward one that has to say it. Holy fuck, it feels weird. He really hopes Stan has the sense to find his prostate before it starts to hurt with the next fingers.**

Stan's finger moved upwards as he explored the narrow cavern it was now in. He wasn't really sure what he was doing, but it was extremely...tight. His brain was trying to comprehend how he was going to fit up there, and then he started getting worried that he might not be able to, so he moved his finger deep inside, pressing against the textured skin with his fingertip.

His eyes were fixed on Craig's expression. Now he was thinking about how he could make Craig actually show some emotion by putting all his fingers in at once, but he knew that would be cruel - this was Craig's first time, after all. ...hopefully. Stan actually had thought about it before, that Craig might be lying. After all, Stan thought he was hot, he probably did get topped at some point. Maybe he just said it to make Stan feel better or something weird like that.

After he had wriggled his finger around quickly, occasionally pressing hard against the sides, trying to find that spot that Craig found on him - he pressed his middle finger in next to his pointer finger, probing deep.

"You okay?" he asked in an afterthought.

**Craig is concentrating so hard on how odd it feels to be penetrated that he forgets to keep his hand moving on Stan and ends up just kind of holding him. As Stan enters the second finger, he tenses up a bit, feeling himself stretch. When Stan asks if he's okay, he looks over to his eyes on instinct, and finds himself locked in. "Um, yeah, I'm… good," he says, and then keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to say anything that might make him sound lame.**

**After a second though, he gasps and drops his head into Stan's shoulder so he can't see his face. Okay so **_**that's**_** what his prostate feels like. Holy fuck, if being gay is wrong then why the fuck is that even there! Goddamn, Stan should fucking do that again.**

"Look at me," Stan whined quietly, noticing how Craig bowed his head into his shoulder the minute he moved his finger a certain way. This was sort of fun seeing Craig react, but if he was going to hide, how the hell was he supposed to enjoy probing him? He went back to try and repeat what he had done, and started scissoring his fingers apart to help the other stretch. "God, you feel so weird." He said before he could refrain saying what he was thinking. It was true, he hadn't ever thought of what it might feel like...but with the addition of lube, he found it extremely...squishy.

He pressed in a third finger after a few minutes, and then pressed in extremely deep, right at the spot he thought he had gotten a reaction out of Craig.

**Craig doesn't look up from where he's put himself because he really doesn't want Stan to see. He's slowly losing his composure, what with how Stan keeps pressing against that spot inside him, and he's starting to breath a bit heavily. Besides, if Stan really wants to see, he's sure Stan will see during the actual sex anyway.**

**The realization hits him that Stan's dick is about to be inside him as Stan adds the third finger. The knowledge makes his blood pump hard in his veins, and it all ends up in one place. He doesn't even acknowledge Stan's awkward comment because holy shit. If this is what Stan's fingers feel like against his insides, what is his whole dick going to feel like?**

**He just bites down on his lip to keep from making a sound, not wanting to say anything anyways. After a while though, he can't fucking take it anymore. "I'm ready, get on with it," he says between his shaky breaths. He can feel himself trembling just the tiniest amount with the abuse his prostate is taking. He wants fucking more of that.**

Feeling Craig quivering with his touch, he had to bite his lower lip to contain his excitement. It was scaring him just a little bit to have the other reacting so strongly to something he was causing, but at the same time, he wanted it. Removing his fingers, he wiped them on his bare thigh, not thinking about it.

He used a lot of force to pick Craig up, putting him on the floor on his back as he knelt down. Once positioned on his knees, he moved Craig so his legs were on either side of him as he lifted him up and pressed himself against him. For a moment, he hesitated, confused about what he was supposed to do. Actually, now he was scared that he might mess it up and hurt Craig, and he panicked for a minute as he went,

"Uh..you sure?"

**Craig doesn't even have the mind to be surprised when Stan picks him up and puts him on the floor. He feels empty, and he wants Stan back inside him. When Stan asks if he's sure, Craig just reaches up and sticks his hands in Stan's hair on either side of his head. He grips and pulls Stan down by it, giving him another heated kiss. When he's done, he keeps Stan close by his grip in Stan's hair. "Just fuck me," he says, looking Stan in the eye with that intense stare that Stan can't stand. He lifts his hips more for emphasis, and curls his legs around Stan's waist before letting go of Stan's head. He lays back on the floor and continues to stare up at Stan.**

Swallowing nervously as his eyes met Craig's intense gaze, he glanced down, and then back at Craig, and then to the side as he blindly guided himself inside of Craig. It made his stomach do flip flops, and he prayed that now was not going to be the time he threw up on Craig. No, that would be too damn awful, he couldn't even think of that. Slowly pressing his way inside, he was surprised he actually had to put some force behind it.

Glancing at Craig's face again, he was hoping the other wouldn't yell at him for doing it wrong.

**Craig bites down hard on his lip as Stan starts to enter him. It hurts, and he's glad that Stan actually did a pretty good job with preparing him. Maybe it's his guitar fingers, he doesn't know. But fucking goddamn, this is a lot more to take in that just some fingers. He breathing gets a little erratic as he tries to cope with it.**

"**F-fuck, gimme a minute," he says, a bit frenzied , once Stan is most of the way in. He really just needs a second to relax, because he knows that once he relaxes, and after Stan finds his sweet spot again, it won't hurt anymore. But **_**fuck**_** it hurts right now.**

**After he takes some time to calm his breathing and get a handle on his own body, he says, "Okay, go." Maybe once Stan starts moving it'll get better. It must get better with the way Stan reacts to it most of the time.**

Stan wanted to thrust inside of Craig, but watching the other, he started feeling a bit afraid. Was he hurting him? Why was he looking so...upset? Maybe he was reading Craig wrong again. He felt a little bitter that he still couldn't read him, even when he knew he was focusing most of his energy and thoughts on the act they were engrossed with right now.

He slowly moved the rest of the way in, he breathed heavily as he looked at Craig again. Maybe he didn't like this. He was hurting him. And he didn't look like he was enjoying it at all. Why would he want to watch Craig writhe in pain? But why was it enjoyable for him? Goddamn Craig.

"Sh-should I stop?" He breathed finally, his hands gripping Craig's hips.

"**No, fuck, don't fucking stop, just **_**move**_**," Craig says, digging his nails into the carpet at his sides. The pain is ebbing, and it's starting to just feel… something. But he just wants Stan to fucking go already. And with the way Stan is gripping his hips, it's about all he can handle. Now he understands why Stan gets frustrated when Craig asks four times if he should stop. It's a precaution, sure, but when nothing is wrong it just feels like a waste of time.**

Still looking slightly worried, he tried moving out and then going back in slowly. Moving a bit quicker, he his chest raised up and down with each thrust as he tightened his grip on Craig's hips. Shaking a bit, he continued to increased speed until he felt like he couldn't handle it anymore, and he thought of pulling out. Opening his mouth to breath, "I'm going to-" He realized he had misjudged his timing and his excitement level. And with one horrified gasp, he released in Craig. Pulling out after a moment to gather himself, he realized he hadn't even paid attention to whether Craig got off or not. Feeling awful he looked at Craig, he lowered the other's hips to the floor.

"Craig - oh my god Craig I'm sorry.."

**Craig's breathing picks up again as Stan starts to move. He digs his nails harder into the carpet, and he ties curl behind Stan's back. Every damn time Stan hits that spot inside him it makes him want to cry out. He manages not to and just focuses on the feeling of Stan being inside of him. It's new and different and weird but it feels so good all the same. **

**By the time he hears Stan's half warning, he's already touching himself and trying to match Stan's pace with his hand. He doesn't think he can take much more, and he gasps when he feels Stan release inside of him. That… feels weird. But it's not another second before he releases himself.**

**He lays there panting for a second, trying not to think about the fact that he can feel Stan's come leaking out of him. That's just weird, and he doesn't know if he likes it or not. "It's… um… it's okay," he manages between breaths. He tries to remember that that was Stan's first time topping anyone and they probably should have been using a condom anyway. "It's fine," he says again, just continuing to lay there. After a second he looks up at Stan and motions with his hand for Stan to come down to him; he wants a fucking kiss.**

"It's not okay, oh my god...I tried warning you but...I don't know, I've never done..." Well, Stan realized he had never done anything involving him sticking something in an area that was not a mouth. ...did he just have a first time with Craig's first time? The romantic part of him flared up at the thought, and he inwardly felt a sense of accomplishment. He narrowed his eyes a bit mischievously as he thought about saying something, but as his breathing regulated, his thoughts drifted to the fact they were in Token's house still.

"...do you think Token has a jacuzzi tub?"

"**Um…" Craig says, sitting up. He tries not to shudder as he can still feel himself leaking. "We should actually probably clean up in here. And Token wants to talk to you but I made him wait so I could come in here first. Uh…" he trails off, looking around for anything they could use to clean with. He doesn't think Token will really appreciate the stains Craig is leaving on his carpet.**

**Not finding anything, he looks back to Stan, realizing that Stan had talked right over his beckon for a kiss. He leans over toward him to leave a tender kiss on his lips. After a moment he says, "If you want to go find Token, I'll clean up. I can text him and tell him you're going to his office…" he stops talking, realizing that Stan is quite the romantic and he probably doesn't appreciate him talking about Token after they'd just had a couple of firsts. "I love you," he says, hoping it fixes it. But really, they should clean up, and Stan still doesn't know what happened.**

Stan returns the kiss gently, running a hand through Craig's hair as the other gave him an I love you. With a sigh, he stood up, still tingling from their 'connection'. But poor Token - they really did make a ...um...mess. Putting on his pants and then his shirt, he walked out of the room and then realized he had no idea where Token was. He reached in his pants pocket to pull out his phone, and sent Token a text- movie theater?

_Token arrived a few minutes later, casually walking over to Stan with somewhat of a bitter expression on his face. "Hey Stan." _

"Hey...um...Token." Stan reached up, rubbing the back of his neck as he averted his eyes to the floor. "...can we have some cleaning supplies."

_"Awwww, really? Okay, I'll go get some." Token rolled his eyes as he turned to walk off to the cleaning closet. He returned around five minutes later with some Resolve and a couple of towels, and then some fabric cleaner. Walking inside, he didn't care if Craig saw him because he had one hand over his eyes as he walked over to where he thought Craig was at the front, and dropped the supplies. "There you go."_

**Craig gathers himself and slides his pants on when Stan leaves the room. He sits there for a minute, not really wanting to get up. He still feels… a **_**void**_**. And he's reluctant to stand. Before he can make himself, Token enters the room. "Why are you covering your eyes? And thanks, um, for everything. And the cleaning shit," he says.**

_"No problem," Token said as he glanced towards the door. "Look, I have to go do some things before bed, and my parents get home soon...you guys can stay in the guest room or the guest house, whichever. The keys to the guest house are in the kitchen. Um, Stan." He looked over at Stan, and said, "I'll talk to you in the morning, okay." _

"Okay?" Stan said from the doorway, wondering what Token could possibly want to talk to him about - though his first thought was that the other might yell at them for doing it in their house.

_"Night Craig, Stan," Token walked off out of the room and down the hall._

**Craig waves Token off and starts to clean up to floor. "Shit, there was a lot…" he mutters, trying to scrub at the carpet. He feels bad about Token's house being soiled, but if he can't get it out, he's sure one of the maids will, or something.**

"**So do you want to stay in the room or the guest house? I was thinking the room would be just fine," he says.**

"Yeah..." Stan walked back in the room, and sat down in a chair near Craig. He felt sort of awkward after doing that- somehow it felt like he should be cleaning, but Craig was doing it instead. Looking down at the floor as the other cleaned, he frowned.

**Deciding that it's as good as it's going to get, Craig stops. And heaves himself off the floor with a little effort – he's fucking exhausted – and picks up the cleaning supplies to put away. He looks over to Stan to say he'll take him to the room, but stops to ask, "You okay?" Stan doesn't look happy about something.**

"Yeah..." Stan said again, looking at Craig distantly as he tried to seem convincing. Really, he was happy, but he felt like he did something wrong. "Uh...so how did Token get Damien to go away?" He leaned back in the recliner, but then lifted himself to his feet so they could go to the room.

**Craig starts to walk out of the room, leading Stan toward the closet where cleaning things were kept. "Uh, he just did… stuff. That's what he's going to explain to you in the morning. I'm not actually sure why he didn't just tell you now, but whatever. He didn't do anything bad, if that's what you're worried about," he says, putting the stuff away without really knowing where any of it goes. Someone will fix it. He starts toward the guest room.**

Following at Craig's heels, Stan was quiet for all of two minutes before he said, "So why can't you tell me?"

"**Well I can, but he wanted to. He talked to Jesus and they found this curse thing, and he told Damien that he'd take his powers away if he didn't let us go, or something. I don't really know all the details because I was too busy being excited that you're fucking not going to die, so he can explain all of it to you in the morning."**

**He says it all nonchalantly, trying to make what Token did seem like not as big of a deal as it was. He starts up a flight of stairs and looks back at Stan, wondering why he seems so upset while Craig is so happy. They're both freed, they just fucked, Token isn't mad at them for making a mess; what the Hell could be bothering him?**

"Oh." Somehow, that all seemed too happy-end-ish and unrealistic, but Craig was so happy- he almost felt like a dunce to ruin it for him. Trying to remove his frown, he attempted a more upbeat attitude. "That's awesome.." Fail. With a sigh he finally admitted, "That seems too easy."

"**Believe me; what Token did was not easy. There was a lot of research involved, and checking up on it. He talked to **_**Jesus**_**, for fuck's sake. He's the fucking best bro ever," Craig says, reaching back to take Stan's hand as they reach the top of the stairs. "Relax, okay? Even if Damien tries talking to you, you can just ignore him completely because the deals are dropped."**

**He starts down the hall toward the guest room.**

"Yeah...you're right, sorry." He took Craig's hand and walked with him evenly by his side down the hall. "I guess I'm just a bit skeptical." And still terrified, he thought - but kept it to himself.

**Craig takes Stan into the room and shuts the door behind him. "Look, don't be scared," he says, taking Stan's jaw in hand and turning his face lightly to be looking at him. "I'm not going to let Damien near you again. And if I can't keep you safe, Token will. You'll be okay," he says, leaning down to peck his lips.**

"**You're biggest problem right now is deciding which side of the bed you want to sleep on," he says, turning toward the bed and trying to lighten the mood a bit. He doesn't want Stan to worry about it anymore; it's over.**

Stan wanted to tell Craig, but he was interrupted by Craig's reassuring speech. Sighing he crawled in the right side of the bed and held out a hand, silently willing Craig towards the bed to snuggle.

**Craig climbs into the bed next to Stan and turns toward him, opening his arms for Stan to slide into. Once Stan does, he pulls the blankets up over them and closes his arms tight around him. "Love you, Stan," he says tiredly. He's fucking wiped, but he wants to stay awake longer and just hold onto Stan. He's so fucking glad this whole ordeal with Damien is over that he's not going to want to let go for another… ever.**

Snuggling up to Craig, he puts a hand on the others arm and holds tight. "Night Craig," He said, and then closed his eyes. Was it really over? That would be nice.


	32. 06 05 2012

06.05.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh:** My mom is pissed.

**Craig Tucker:** Why?

**Stan Marsh:** Because I avoided her after crashing my truck and she got a call from the insurance company before I told her

**Craig Tucker:** You okay?

**Stan Marsh:** Not really..she grounded me.

**Craig Tucker:** For how long

**Stan Marsh:** Until I graduate and her words "move out of this house"

**Craig Tucker:** Um

**Stan Marsh:** Um?

**Craig Tucker:** That sucks

**Craig Tucker:** A lot

**Stan Marsh:** Yeah, I know.

**Stan Marsh:** At least you can come over

**Craig Tucker:** I can?

**Stan Marsh:** Yeah. I can't go out. So I can go to work and school, that's it.

**Craig Tucker:** That fucking sucks

**Craig Tucker:** But I guess it's cool I can come over

**Stan Marsh:** Could be worse..

**Craig Tucker:** A lot worse

**Stan Marsh:** Yeah...

**Stan Marsh:** Hey Craig?

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah?

**Stan Marsh:** I forgot to tell you everything that happened.

**Stan Marsh:** Like I know I should have but I was ashamed of myself so I didn't want to tell you

**Craig Tucker:** What else happened?

**Stan Marsh:** When I woke up I was like, snuggling Damien, and he had his hand in my pants. Like, rubbing my hip.

**Craig Tucker:** Uhh... he was touching you again?

**Stan Marsh:** ...yeah

**Stan Marsh:** Don't talk to him

**Craig Tucker:** Give me a minute, I'm trying not to be pissed off because I never want to talk to him again

**Stan Marsh:** Maybe token really scared him off

**Craig Tucker:** He did

**Stan Marsh:** I'm still..uh. You know.

**Stan Marsh:** Scared

**Craig Tucker:** Don't be; he has no power over you

**Stan Marsh:** Christophe says he can make people want to have sex with him

**Craig Tucker:** Then don't talk to him

**Craig Tucker:** Damien, I mean

**Stan Marsh:** I'm sorry for snuggling someone else ..

**Stan Marsh:** I feel like I cheated or something even if I thought it was you

**Stan Marsh:** I'm never going to talk to him again

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, don't

**Stan Marsh:** You ok?

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah

**Stan Marsh:** I guess this means we can only do it when I'm at work or school

**Stan Marsh:** You care?

**Stan Marsh:** I mean, if it's at work or school. I don't

**Craig Tucker:** That's fine; it's not the only reason I'm with you

**Stan Marsh:** ...well it's important still

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, but we can do it wherever

**Craig Tucker:** Or I can just bring my hat

**Stan Marsh:** ...

**Stan Marsh:** I love you

**Craig Tucker:** I love you too

**Stan Marsh:** Hey Craig.

**Stan Marsh:** Could you really survive a zombie apocalypse?

**Stan Marsh:** I mean, you sleep like a rock.

**Craig Tucker:** My sleeping patterns have nothing to do with it

**Craig Tucker:** I'd kick total ass

**Craig Tucker:** Me and Ruby are going to be a team

**Craig Tucker:** And it's going to be so badass

**Stan Marsh:** And wasn't one of the rules in zombie land not to be overconfident?

**Craig Tucker:** Sure, but we're not overconfident

**Craig Tucker:** Have you _met_ Ruby?

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know. I think if a zombie apocalypse happens I'll probably be dead.

**Craig Tucker:** Nah, you'll be with us

**Stan Marsh:** Yeah I think I remember meeting your sister. She told me tweek was cuter.

**Stan Marsh:** I guess but I'll be dead

**Stan Marsh:** So I guess I'll be your zombie boyfriend

**Stan Marsh:** Don't forget the collar

**Craig Tucker:** Hey, I told you she was kidding

**Craig Tucker:** She was just being an ass

**Stan Marsh:** No, I think she was serious. Besides, I'm not that good looking

**Craig Tucker:** You are  
(4:14:39 PM) **Stan Marsh:** Yeah...so you say

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, so I say. I fucking like the way you look; do I need to go into detail again?

**Stan Marsh:** Maybe

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah?

**Stan Marsh:** Yeah

**Craig Tucker:** When we're fucking or just sitting around? Because there's different things I like about both of those.

**Stan Marsh:** Did you forget the details?

**Stan Marsh:** Oh. Uh...either.

**Stan Marsh:** Or both.

**Craig Tucker:** You realize you're just fishing for compliments, right?

**Craig Tucker:** But okay.

**Stan Marsh:** :)

**Craig Tucker:** I just, in general, I dunno. I like your eyes, actually, a lot. I like their color, and it's like I can see what you're thinking. I like the way your cheeks get all red when I say something you're not expecting, or when I'm touching you, or even when you're touching me. And I like how when you take your shirt off I can see all the marks I've left all over you. And I like how you look at your dog, or at Stripe. And your hat, that's cute too. And I like how I can see your face in my head while you're reading this because you've never really heard me say I like anything about you. You're just cute, I don't know.

**Craig Tucker:** And physically, don't get me started.

**Stan Marsh:** ...

**Stan Marsh:** 3

**Craig Tucker:** Yeah, um

**Craig Tucker:** Feel better yet?

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know. I'm feeling extremely insecure about my self image right now, so you might have to keep going.

**Craig Tucker:** That's a bullshit lie, no

**Craig Tucker:** You know you're good looking, you just want me to tell you

**Stan Marsh:** No really I'm so insecure I'm borderline self loathing..you should keep saying stuff you like about me to help me recover

**Craig Tucker:** Ass

**Stan Marsh:** You like my ass?

**Craig Tucker:** Maybe I should just come over and show you how cute you are

**Craig Tucker:** Wait, I thought you didn't like it when I said you were cute

**Craig Tucker:** I had to get special permission before

**Stan Marsh:** I like a lot of annoying things you do or say

**Craig Tucker:** Is that code for "Yes, Craig, come show me how cute I am and kiss my face off"

**Craig Tucker:** Because I can do that

**Stan Marsh:** My mom is home though

**Craig Tucker:** Oh

**Stan Marsh:** She keeps checking up on me, it's annoying

**Craig Tucker:** That sucks

**Craig Tucker:** Why is she checking on your for getting in a wreck? As far as she knows, you're not hurt

**Stan Marsh:** She saw me with my shirt off when I was getting changed this morning.

**Craig Tucker:** ...oh

**Craig Tucker:** Um, I'm sorry

**Stan Marsh:** Yeah, it's fine.

**Craig Tucker:** I can stop doing that

**Craig Tucker:** I'm sure that gives her a million more reasons to like me

**Stan Marsh:** At least Damien didn't see that

**Stan Marsh:** Don't stop doing it..

**Craig Tucker:** Are you sure?

**Stan Marsh:** Yeah..

**Craig Tucker:** You okay?

**Stan Marsh:** I'm fine

**Craig Tucker:** If you say so

**Stan Marsh:** Hey let's sneak out tonight

**Craig Tucker:** To where? Won't you get in trouble?

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know and probably but whatever

**Craig Tucker:** Bro, don't get in trouble just to sneak out. You said I'm allowed at your house anyway

**Stan Marsh:** But we can't sleep together then

**Craig Tucker:** We can't?

**Stan Marsh:** She'll walk in on us

**Craig Tucker:** Sleeping?

**Stan Marsh:** ...yeah and probably tell you to go home

**Craig Tucker:** Well what's she going to do when she checks on you and you're not even there?

**Stan Marsh:** Probably ground me again

**Craig Tucker:** Well I don't want you grounded longer, I want to be able to freely see you

**Stan Marsh:** Well I want to fall asleep in your arms so who's going to lose.

**Craig Tucker:** Um... I can just come over and we can hide under the blankets

**Craig Tucker:** there

**Craig Tucker:** we both win

**Stan Marsh:** Ok

**Stan Marsh:** That works

**Craig Tucker:** Will I have to get past her to get into your house?

**Stan Marsh:** I'll tell you when to come over

**Craig Tucker:** Alright

**Stan Marsh:** Do your parents care?

**Craig Tucker:** Probably

**Craig Tucker:** But they don't pay enough attention to notice if I leave in the middle of the night

**Stan Marsh:** What If you have to pee, you can't hide all night

**Craig Tucker:** I don't know Stan, do you want me to come over or not? I can just put on your hat or something

**Stan Marsh:** dude

**Stan Marsh:** my parents aren't stupid

**Stan Marsh:** my mom will notice the height difference probably

**Craig Tucker:** Then I won't come

**Stan Marsh:** ...but I want you

**Craig Tucker:** Then what do you want me to do

**Stan Marsh:** be here?

**Craig Tucker:** When

**Stan Marsh:** ...when my mom goes to put in the laundry at 8 before she goes to bed

**Craig Tucker:** Alright

* * *

**At around 8, like Stan said, Craig leaves his house and goes over to Stan's. He tries the door, hoping that it's unlocked. It is, and he quietly makes his way inside. Keeping an eye out, he soundlessly makes his way up to Stan's room and shuts the door behind himself. He hopes that no one noticed his being there. "Hey," he whispers, seeing Stan on his floor with his feet propped up on the wall. Of all the weird positions… he even sits weird while he's on the computer.**

**He makes his was over to sit cross-legged next to Stan's head, running a hand through his hair as he leans down to give him a hello kiss. "What'cha doing?"**

"Looking at animal porn," He said plainly but quietly after the kiss, glancing up at Craig from where he was laying on the floor. On the screen was a youtube video of baby guinea pigs running around.

"Um, yeah. Not really, just in case you didn't catch the sarcasm," Looking back at the screen he went to exit out of the window. There were no chat windows open - though he had opened Kyle's, and was staring at it, debating whether he would tell him about what happened.

Closing the laptop, he looked at Craig with the laptop on his stomach. "Did you want to go to sleep?"

"**Yeah, if you want," Craig says, even though it's not even 8:30. He doesn't make to stand up though; he just looks down at Stan. He feels like shit that he pretty much got Stan grounded, and he doesn't think he'll be able to mark Stan anymore without thinking of Sharon. And that's fucked up.**

"Yeah, I'm kinda tired," He replied, pushing the laptop up against the wall where it was plugged in. He sat up in an upright position, and then cast a gaze over to underneath his bed, where he used to have a bottle of alcohol. Looking back up to Craig, he realized he really didn't care where the alcohol used to be - it was more like a mapping memory of where it was hidden now. What he really wanted was to be next to Craig and not have to worry about impending doom.

Standing up, he walked over to his bed and threw back the covers, and then sat on the edge across from the window.

"How do you hide-hug someone. I'm like, trying to figure out the physics of this."

**Craig makes his way over to the bed and lays down in it, on his back, near the middle. "Just like, lay mostly on me. Or all the way on me, it doesn't really matter. In a dark room, we'll just look like a blob," he says, opening his arms for Stan to lay on his chest. He really doesn't feel like sneaking around again after they finally got past that, but whatever. He just doesn't care. He has Stan, so whatever.**

Lying on top of Craig, he cuddled up to his chest and then put his arm out in a way that if his mom opened the door, she'd just see his arm instead of any part of Craig.

Pressed against the other, he really couldn't remember why he had gotten so pissed off about liking him two weeks ago. As far as Stan was concerned, Craig was an asshole still, but now he was his asshole. His cute, occasionally puppy-like asshole who liked his eyes and had oddly silky hair. With his other hand moving up Craig's neck, he rested it there so he could toy with the end of his hair absentmindedly.

"Night," he said quietly.

**Craig closes his arms around Stan's lower back and says, "Night," back before closing his eyes. He really isn't tired, but he supposes he can just lie there a awake for a while, feeling Stan play with his hair, or listening to Stan's even breathing as he falls sleep. Really, spending the night awake with Stan on top of him isn't exactly on his list of not-to-do. He'll fall asleep… eventually.**

Around one, Stan was still perched on top of Craig, with his hand on the pillow above Craig. In his hand was his phone, and he had his AIM open. His other arm was still around Craig's neck, and he wasn't aware that he was slowly tightening his grip on Craig's collar as he continued to text. By the time he shot off the concluding messages, he had a near-death grip on Craig, and he finally looked down and released his phone as he relaxed his hands.

Then he cuddled up to Craig and made a distinct deflating noise as he exhaled, wrapping his arms around Craig and pressing the side of his face to the other's chest, just below his chin.

**Craig wakes as he notices Stan death-gripping his neck. He doesn't say anything, because he actually thinks it might hurt his throat to do so. So he just waits until Stan deflates into his chest. "Why the fuck were you texting so intensely?" he asks quietly, petting a hand up through Stan's hair to calm him down from whatever it was. His first thought is that it might have been Kenny, threatening suicide again, but then he remembers that it's Stan, and that it was actually probably Damien again. "…it wasn't Damien, was it?" he asks, just to be safe.**

Hearing Craig speak, he realized he hadn't checked to see if Craig was breathing slowly or normally. He looked up at Craig with the best innocent expression he could muster in the near-darkness - only the light of his phone was illuminating them right now. "Uh... I...well I said thanks for saving me from the wreck, because I could have died.."

Feeling incredibly stupid, he pressed his head against Craig's chest again, concentrating on Craig's fingers weaving through his hair.

**Craig winces a bit at having his suspicions confirmed. "Goddamnit Stan… Just please don't fucking talk to him ever, for anything. …**_**please**_**," he says, saying please twice because… he **_**really **_**doesn't want Stan to get mixed up in Damien's shit again. He doesn't know if Token can save them twice, and Craig can't let Stan get hurt, so he'd have to fucking reinstate that deal and put Token's efforts to waste. And from the way Stan had been squeezing him to fucking death, it hadn't been a pleasant conversation.**

"I won't..." Stan mumbled into Craig's hoodie, feeling incredibly miserable. But he remembered what Damien had said about Craig, and even though he didn't want to tell Craig how in depth their conversation had gotten, he looked back up at the other with a serious expression on his face as he asked straightforwardly, "He said he couldn't hurt me because of you. What deal did you make?"  
He had a dark feeling that Craig did something he didn't want to hear.

**Craig tenses a bit, considering that's what he'd just been thinking about."I, um… that night you were talking about him potentially… fucking you; you seemed really afraid, and I couldn't take it anymore. So I, sort of, asked him to direct any punishments toward me instead of you. I didn't want you to get hurt anymore…" he says, looking Stan in the eye with as apologetic an expression he could manage. He knows Stan didn't want him to get hurt, but nothing bad happened, so it's okay. Right?**

Stan stared at the other, his expression going blank as he tried to figure out how he felt about this news. With his eyes focused on Craig, he opened his mouth to respond, but instead of saying anything that sounded remotely okay, he said, "Why would you do that," in an extremely pitiful tone. He didn't want to remove himself from where he was on Craig, but he felt a chill run down his spine as he thought about how pissed Damien seemed that night of the crash - if Token hadn't done anything, would Craig have died?

His eyes grew watery as he laid his head back down on Craig's chest, away from his line of sight.

**Craig swears he sees tears forming in the corners of Stan's eyes before he hides his face. It makes his heart feel heavy, and he returns his hand to stroke through Stan's hair. "I couldn't just sit there and watch him hurt you, so… I made sure he couldn't. Then at least I knew if you got called away like that and I didn't even know, you'd still be safe," he says. He's glad he's speaking so quietly, because if he weren't he's sure his voice would have cracked. What if Damien had killed Stan? He's not even sure what he would do if Stan weren't on his chest right now.**

"You're extremely stupid," Stan remarked as Craig explained, his hand limp on the other's shoulder and the other still underneath Craig.

"That doesn't even make any sense. He could have killed you, then killed me after he didn't have anyone to take it out on. Did you think I'd not notice if you walked up all bloody and bruised? You're incredibly stupid and if you ever do something like that again I'm going to hate you forever because I can't love someone who wants me to see them in pain."

**Craig tenses as he hears Stan explain. "Then… don't love me. Because I'll always do whatever it takes to keep you safe, because I love you. And if I get hurt in the process, then just don't look at me. You think I wanted to see you in pain? You tried the same fucking thing when I made that first deal about food, and I wasn't actually in any danger," he says. He doesn't know where this conversation is going to end up, and he really doesn't want to keep having it. They're both fine, so it's pointless to think about, and it's really making Craig hurt. He tightens his arm around Stan's waist, and holds Stan's head against his chest in a hug. He just doesn't want Stan to fucking die.**

"Humphh.." Stan made the awkward noise when Craig tightened his arms around him, and he kept his eyes averted. Really, this was one of his least favorite topics - he didn't want to think of how Craig could have died, or how he could have died, or they both could have died and ended up in Damien's demented harem. And it was true - he had tried doing the same thing with Craig, but he didn't want to admit he was first to do it. So instead he stayed quiet for a few minutes, silently, focusing only on the sound of their breathing.

Finally reaching a conclusion somewhere in his mind, he decided to voice it aloud. "No, I think I'd still love you. If I hated you it'd be a lie, anyways."

**Craig hums and says, "You know, I still kind of hate you for how much you've made me love you. Like, the only people I'd go this far for are Token, Clyde, and Tweek. And now you."**

**He pauses to loosen his hug and begin playing with Stan's hair again, weaving it through his fingers. "Plus, you know, if you didn't let me protect you, how would you survive a zombie apocalypse?" he asks, trying to lighten the topic a bit so they can calm down before going back to sleep.**

"I told you, I'm not surviving a zombie apocalypse. I'm probably going to run as far as I can, and then die. You can keep me on a zombie leash, okay," Stan said, sensing the change of topic was probably for the best. But it gave him sort of a warm bubbly feeling in his chest that Craig admitted he hated him for making him love him - he felt the same way. That asshole. And it somehow made it more rewarding because Craig was a stoic bastard all of the time, and never voiced his emotions.

Instead of frowning however, he was smiling, and he looked up at Craig with an appreciative glance.

"But if we survive we'd have end of the world sex, right."

"**Of course we'd survive and of course we'd have fucking sex; when don't we have sex? We even did it in Token's damned house, okay, I'm sure we can do it in a burning field," he says, with a smirk to his voice. He can imagine it, and it's kind of funny.**

"**Stan, I love you, go the fuck to sleep," he says, humored. They really have to many mood swings. But now that he's not upset anymore, he can sleep easy.**

"Okay, fine." Stan grumbled as he closed his eyes, nuzzling Craig before he was settled. There was a moment's pause before he said, "...yeah, burning field. I was thinking more a mall rooftop on a SOS sign but okay, whatever."

"**Hey, whatever post-apocalyptic ruin you like best, that's where we can spend our last moments," he says, ruffling his hand a bit through Stan's hair affectionately. "Good night," he says, closing his eyes again with a stupid smile on his face, thinking about the zombie take over that hasn't even happened yet.**

Stan fell asleep, thinking the exact opposite. He was hoping he wasn't going to have zombie nightmares again- those were always annoying, what with the getting locked in a building, then having to defend it, and then leaving a door open accidentally when he went out for a smoke in the middle of the apocalypse. Damn, he really needed to learn how to control his dreams better to avoid stupid mistakes like that. Either way, he drifted off on Craig, leaving his phone abandoned high up on the pillow.


	33. 06 06 2012

06.06.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **Hey Craig

**Craig Tucker: **Hey

**Stan Marsh: **How's class

**Craig Tucker: **Boring as fuck

**Stan Marsh: **Same

**Stan Marsh: **I'd skip but I think I ran out of excused absences

**Craig Tucker: **Weak

**Stan Marsh: **Yep

**Stan Marsh: **Um, I'm going to give you something at lunch

**Stan Marsh: **You'll be in the lunchroom right

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, I'll be there

**Stan Marsh: **Okay, cool

**Craig Tucker: **What are you giving me? Are you going to sit with us today?

**Stan Marsh: **Sit with you?

**Stan Marsh: **Um it's nothing

**Craig Tucker: **Are you?

**Stan Marsh: **I was going to sit at my usual table..

**Craig Tucker: **Oh, well what are you giving me?

**Stan Marsh: **Um, it's a surprise I guess

**Craig Tucker: **Ah, that's cool

**Stan Marsh: **...did you want me to sit with you?

**Craig Tucker: **Not if you don't want to

**Stan Marsh: **I guess I could but I'm like with you all the time

**Craig Tucker: **Then don't

**Craig Tucker: **It was just a question

**Stan Marsh: **Oh. You seem disappointed or something

**Craig Tucker: **It's cool

**Stan Marsh: **That's a dismissive response

**Craig Tucker: **If you want to sit with us then do, and if you don't then don't

**Craig Tucker: **That's it

**Stan Marsh: **I guess we really don't talk at all during school hours

**Stan Marsh: **Except for like..texting

**Craig Tucker: **Does that matter to you?

**Stan Marsh: **...that's like asking if we matter

**Craig Tucker: **Is it? Then why don't you sit with me?

**Stan Marsh: **Uh...I don't know I guess I didn't think about it until now

**Craig Tucker: **Really?

**Stan Marsh: **We haven't say near each other since fourth grade

**Stan Marsh: **Sat*

**Craig Tucker: **So?

**Stan Marsh: **...people will look

**Craig Tucker: **Again, so?

**Stan Marsh: **...I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **Why do you want me to sit with you

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, because I love you?

**Stan Marsh: **...ugh I don't know I like my seat in the lunchroom

**Stan Marsh: **It's perfect position to look at your table

**Stan Marsh: **..uh

**Craig Tucker: **Okay.

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **You're pissed

**Craig Tucker: **No I'm not.

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah you are

**Craig Tucker: **No, I'm not.

**Stan Marsh: **Then why are you giving me shirt responses

**Stan Marsh: **Short*

**Craig Tucker: **Because I'm in class.

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah never stopped you before no one is going to notice

**Craig Tucker: **Alright, my bad.

**Stan Marsh: **...you are irritated, omg just say it

**Craig Tucker: **No, I'm not irritated.

**Stan Marsh: **...okay fine

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not sitting with you then

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, it's not like you were going to anyway.

**Stan Marsh: **I would if I feel like moving seats

**Craig Tucker: **Well you don't feel like moving, so don't

**Stan Marsh: **Okay I won't

**Craig Tucker: **Right

**Stan Marsh: **...ugh

**Stan Marsh: **Do you want me to

**Craig Tucker: **What do you think

**Stan Marsh: **Yes

**Stan Marsh: **Fine I'll sit with you

**Craig Tucker: **Don't you not want people to see

**Stan Marsh: **...you're like guilt tripping me. This isn't cool.

**Stan Marsh: **I don't really care if people see.

**Craig Tucker: **Okay

**Stan Marsh: **Okay?

**Stan Marsh: **That's it? You're just saying okay?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not going to make you sit with me, so just sit wherever you damn want

**Stan Marsh: **Token and Clyde will make fun of me

**Craig Tucker: **For what?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know they just will

**Stan Marsh: **You've probably told them stuff about me and they'll bring it up

**Craig Tucker: **What would I tell them?

**Craig Tucker: **They're my bros, but whatever

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **About all the embarrassing romance stuff

**Craig Tucker: **There's no way I'd talk about that willingly, because _I'm_ the one they'd rip on

**Stan Marsh: **Willingly? So you did tell them

**Craig Tucker: **No, I didn't, but I also didn't think it would matter to you if I did.

**Stan Marsh: **I don't tell Kyle or Kenny anything for obvious reasons

**Stan Marsh: **I mean everyone knew a did romance stuff with Wendy but with you it's different

**Stan Marsh: **...wait I don't mean it like, with you it's bad or something it's just people will know I'm a bitch.

**Stan Marsh: **It's just I don't want people calling me bitch boy they already put it in my locker..whatever ok fine I'll sit with you

**Craig Tucker:** What about your locker?

**Stan Marsh:** nothing

**Craig Tucker:** No, tell me.

**Stan Marsh:** no, it's nothing

**Stan Marsh:** look it's no big deal

**Stan Marsh:** it happens

**Craig Tucker:** Tell me what happened.

**Stan Marsh:** people shove stupid notes in the locker slots all the time, it's nbd

**Stan Marsh:** I don't care

**Stan Marsh:** we had bigger problems the past few days

**Stan Marsh:** so it's no big deal, craig

**Craig Tucker:** Who was it

**Stan Marsh:** I don't know

**Stan Marsh:** it was just a stupid note

**Craig Tucker:** What did it say

**Stan Marsh:** a lot of crap

**Craig Tucker:** You're so descriptive

**Stan Marsh:** I threw them out

**Craig Tucker:** Them

**Stan Marsh:** all I remember is that they used the term bitch boy and I was pissed off so I ignored them

**Craig Tucker:** Why the fuck would someone even say that; we interact fucking none at school

**Stan Marsh:** probably the day with the hat

**Stan Marsh:** i don't know

**Stan Marsh:** it started around then

**Craig Tucker:** Is it still happening?

**Stan Marsh:** yeah but it's nbd

**Stan Marsh:** um

**Stan Marsh:** anyways

**Craig Tucker:** You don't have to sit with me

**Stan Marsh:** I will

**Stan Marsh:** it's almost lunch so I'm going to take off

**Stan Marsh:** I have to go to my locker before

**Craig Tucker:** I'll come see you there

**Stan Marsh:** no, don't

**Stan Marsh:** just go to the lunch room

**Stan Marsh:** I'll see you there

**Craig Tucker:** I want to

**Stan Marsh:** No

**Stan Marsh:** you're going to fucking ruin the surprise

**Stan Marsh:** just don't

**Stan Marsh:** go to the damn lunch room

**Craig Tucker:** Fine.


	34. 06 06 2012 a

06.06.2012 (four way log with Token, Craig, Clyde, and Stan~)

* * *

**Token Black**: After running by his locker to drop off his books, Token took down the steps to the lunchroom and sat down at the table with his lunch box. Usually he was first to arrive, and first to leave, simply because he never stayed the whole time for lunch. Glancing around to see if either Craig or Clyde showed up, he pulled out a small container with crab cakes in it.

**Clyde Donovan**: Clyde swung has backpack over his shoulder, making sure to one-strap it so he others would deem him as 'cool'. He smirked as he moved down the hallway, thinking how great lunch would be considering he would be spending it with his bros; not that he ever ate with others. Once arriving to the lunch room, he jogged over to the table, somewhat slid onto the bench and gave a small wave to his bro Token. "Hey dude! No sign of the asshole yet?"

**Token Black**: "Nope, none," Token smiled as he popped the lid on his crab cakes. "Want one? I'm not going to finish all of these and I have to go do research in fifteen in the library." He picked up one and held it out for Clyde.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig stops by his locker to throw his back pack inside, not thinking there any point in dragging it to lunch, before he makes his way to the cafeteria. Upon arriving, he slides into his seat next to Clyde, giving a short, "Hey," and leaning his cheek in his hand.

**Clyde Donovan**: "Dude, the fuck are those?" He took one, eyeing it suspiciously before popping it into his mouth. He grimaced slightly, not quite enjoying the taste as Craig slipped quietly into the seat next to his. Cheerfully smiling, despite the unappetizing taste in his mouth, he looked over to Craig and leaned a little bit forward saying, "Hey? That's all we get? Awe, bro.~ You're no fun."

**Token Black**: "He doesn't like us anymore. He only uses us for our houses so he can have sex with his new boyfriend in them," Token said with a somber grin, and shrugged as Clyde dissed his crab cakes. They had some strange spices in them but they were still good, he didn't know what Clyde's problem was.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig rolls his eyes at Token's comment, giving him a bored look. "Please, I apologized already for that. Besides I had good reason to celebrate, wouldn't you say?" he asks, sliding his eyes over to Clyde, wondering if he had any idea what they were talking about. He doesn't think he's told Clyde he's even dating Stan, but word gets around quick, so he wouldn't be surprised if Clyde knew.

**Clyde Donovan**: Cocking a brow, the brunette said, "Oh my God. So you weren't lying. Craig! What the Hell! That was my favorite chair. Not cool man. You're going to have to...like...buy him a new chair or something. Dude! If you do, can it be like one of those that have the thing that pop out from the bottom? That'd awesome." He paused for a second, now looking slightly over at Token as he said, "By the way, whatever those are, they taste bad."

**Token Black**: "They're crab cakes," Token said indignantly, and then rolled his eyes. "The chair's cleaned Clyde, I swear. But hey, if Craig wants to buy me something in exchange..I wouldn't say no to Taco Bell. If he bought it for you too. Since he caused you mental anguish by defiling your favorite chair, Clyde."

**Stan Marsh**: After stopping by his locker, Stan picked up his lunch and then a small plain blue gift bag. He walked down the steps to the lunch room, paused a moment to watch Craig, Clyde and Token talk, and then he finally walked within hearing distance and put the bag down in front of Craig, and sat on the other side of him with his own lunch bag.

Inside the gift bag was a bento box shaped like a panda, with homemade sushi on one tier, and panda shaped rice balls on the other.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig was about to comment on how nothing even really happened in the chair, it was on the floor where things got messy, but he's interrupted by a blue bag being set in front of him. "Oh," he says, truing his eyes on Stan as he sits. "Hey," he greets. He then turns his eyes back to Token, knowing he'll have the worst of fucking grins because Stan brought him a _gift_. And it's so _romantic_ and shit. Damned asshole. "Stan's sitting here today," he announces, then looking to Clyde from Token to let them both know.

**Clyde Donovan**: "Yeah. Okay, dude that's cool. Stan's a bro, it's all good.~" Clyde smiled at the new comer, just before lifting his bag onto a portion of the bench to bring out his own lunch. As he did that, he said, "So, what's in the bag? Oh dude, is it like a stuffed guinea pig or something? I bet it is! Awe, how cool are you two?" He snickered to himself, thinking he was correct and that he was insanely funny.

**Token Black**: Token stared at the bag with a certain intensity. He really was trying to not laugh at the thought of Craig receiving a gift. At lunch. In front of them.

"Oh, hey Stan." He tried not grinning too wide, but it was near impossible.

"So what **is** in the bag? Come on, Craig, don't keep us in suspense- open it!"

**Stan Marsh**: Stan mumbled, "Thanks. Hey," respectively, and unzipped his lunch box and pulled out a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He wasn't in the mood to socialize, because his face was turning red. Maybe it would have been best to gift-drop-and-run. Glancing over at Craig, he looked at the gift bag, wondering if he was going to open it here.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig raises an eyebrow at the bag, wondering what's inside. Should he even open it in front of those two assholes? Well, whatever it is, he should open it before they think it's something really weird that can't be seen. Besides, if Token and Clyde aren't their usual dick selves to Stan, Craig might have reason to worry. It would mean they don't like him.

He tilts the bag toward himself, peering inside. Is that a…? He pulls it out and stares at the panda shaped box. "Is this a _bento_?" he asks flatly, not sure if he actually believes it or not. A damned bento. In a panda shaped box. He can't decide if it's cute or if Stan is just making fun of him for occasionally enjoying anime.

**Clyde Donovan**: "Is that..a.." Clyde stared at the item for a moment, not sure whether to believe it or not. Though after seconds of mustering up his thoughts, the boy gave out and started laughing hysterically. It wasn't to be mean, it was just the fact that Stan gave Craig a bento. "Holy shit. Oh my God. This is too good." He layed his head on the table, his chuckles becoming less apparent. "I'm so jealous right now, bro. Like, you don't even know."

**Token Black**: Token wasn't sure what just happened. Did Stan Marsh give Craig a bento box? He could barely contain his laughter when Clyde burst out into a fit, and he couldn't hold it in. He did however try to bring his hand up to his face to cover his mouth, which eventually he covered his whole face because he knew how emotionally vulnerable Stan was. Like it could block the sound. Oh, but it was so goddamn funny!

"I-..I can't breathe." He said after a moment of laughing, "I think..I think I broke a rib."

**Stan Marsh**: Stan's shoulders drooped visibly as he heard the others laugh, and he kept his eyes averted to the lunch box in front of him.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig promptly delivers a smack to the back of Clyde's head for laughing and shoots Token a half hearted glare from across the table. "You guys are just pissed you have to eat shit for lunch when I actually get to eat something good," he says, coming to Stan's defense automatically, even if he actually means it. He likes Stan's food; the few times he's eaten it.

"And you _should_ be jealous; he makes a mean fucking taco that you'll never get to eat because you're a dick," he says, looking on the little pandas in the box. Okay, now it's cute. Stan puts too much effort into this shit for it not to be. He picks one of them up and takes a bite.

**Clyde Donovan**: Clyde delivered a long, loud groan from being hit on the head. He then sat back up, pulling out the lunch box he set out to find in his bag earlier. He then latched his hand onto the opening and said, "Me? Pissed? Eating shit? Dude, Hell no. I've got the best lunch, because I have-" He proudly lifted it open. "-A...Damnit, a sandwich. And so what if he makes tacos? No one can make a taco better than the Donoman, okay?" He pouted as he took a sad bite out of the sandwich.

**Token Black**: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Token said after a few deep breaths, still chuckling for a moment before he decided to bite his tongue to suppress the urge. With a smile plastered on his face, he put the lid back on the container of crab cakes, having eaten only one. He reached over and opened his bottle of Dr. Pepper, and then looked at Stan. "Stan, that was a really a neat idea. I'm sorry I laughed. But I just..you've got to understand, Craig receiving gifts from anyone is hilarious. Look at his face right now. How can you not laugh at that."

**Stan Marsh**: Stan still was slightly slumped over the table, and had put his sandwich on the table instead of eating it. Watching Craig bite into a panda rice ball, he felt a little better, but he still thought maybe this was the worst idea ever. Maybe he should just quit doing stupid stuff like this, Craig didn't like it anyways. Stan was so use to PDAs that he was forcing them on Craig, even when he was paranoid about people seeing them together at school.

Hearing Clyde, and then Token, he shrugged, and frowned.

**Craig Tucker**: "No way Clyde; his were better," Craig says, both to jab at Clyde and to make Stan feel better. It's almost true; their tacos are pretty evenly matched. But then again, Clyde spends his whole life on tacos, so it's not surprise he's good at making them.

Craig slides his eyes over to Stan at Token's comment. Stan looks so goddamned defeated. In a spur of the moment reflex, he leans over a bit to kiss Stan on the cheek. That always makes Stan feel better, and fuck what Token and Clyde say. "Yeah, look at my stupid point face," he says, taking another bite of the panda, successfully decapitating it.

**Clyde Donovan**: He scoffed at Craig's comment, thinking there as no way that could possibly be true. "Psh. Yeah, okay. Whatever man." He leaned his cheek against his hand, taking another bite out of his sandwich. He wasn't exactly paying attention to where his eyes were fixed, but once Craig kissed Stan, he realized where he was staring. He found the kiss to be oddly cute, yet hilarious. Though this time, his mouth was too full to start laughing. Instead, he said, "Your stupid pointy face is fucking gorgeous, bro," even though he knew it wasn't directed at him.

**Token Black**: Token's smile had changed into one that contained a bit of worry, because he noticed how upset Stan was over their comments. And they used to make fun of him as a kid for being touchy... Either way, Token sipped his soda, briefly glancing at Craig when he went and kissed Stan, but didn't stare like Clyde did. Instead he put his crab cakes back in his lunch box and said, "It's been fun but I have to go work on a report. Last minute projects, fun."

**Stan Marsh**: Even with the compliment, Stan felt like everyone was staring at him, even when he wasn't looking up. He was slightly startled when Craig went to kiss him, and he looked up and saw Clyde staring. So they _were_ staring. And when Token decided to say he had to go, Stan got up from the bench and walked off back up the stairs without another word.

* * *

**Craig sighs as Stan gets up and leaves. Stan really needs to handle uncomfortable situations better… He puts the box back in the bag and stands. "Sorry Clyde, I gotta go get him," he mutters, walking off toward where Stan had gone. Really, Token and Clyde aren't that bad but fuck, why did Stan have to just walk off like that?**

"**Hey, where are you going?" he asks, catching Stan by his sleeve.**

Trying not to make a scene, Stan yanks his sleeve from Craig's grasp and takes off up the steps to the ground level. He didn't look at Craig, because he was feeling extremely upset.

"Just not now, Craig,"

**Craig grits his teeth to keep from saying anything he shouldn't, because he's actually highly considering just going back to eat with Clyde and letting Stan have his little bitch fit on his own. Craig's never had to deal with this much bullshit form someone before, especially not from someone he loves. He's starting to take a toll. "Are you okay?" he asks, opting for his normal front, because now is **_**really **_**not the time to start a fight.**

**But **_**fuck**_**, all of this shit is getting to Craig. They finally, get rid of Damien, so Stan texts him. Stan's been getting notes in his locker and didn't even say anything. Stan refuses to be with him during school, whether he realizes it or not. And the first time Stan actually decided to sit with him – probably only because he picked up that it was upsetting Craig – he fucking walked off. Granted, things aren't as dramatic as they were before, but fuck, everything hurts for one reason or another.**

"You really want to do this here?" Stan said, stopping to turn and look at Craig. "Right now? Really?"  
There were probably students wandering the halls in between the next classes, not to mention teachers. But really, Stan wanted to get something off his chest, and he wasn't about to stop if he was provoked.

"Because if you really want to know if I'm okay, then no. I'm not fucking okay. I am the furthest thing from fucking okay."

"**Why are you getting so pissed off at me? I didn't **_**do **_**anything," Craig says, a little bit of his annoyance showing through. He really doesn't know why Stan is this pissed off about Token and Clyde being asses; that's just what bros do, they rip on each other. And he knows Clyde, kind of; they play sports together. So what the fuck is even going on? **

**Before he can say anything he'll probably regret, he turns on his heel and sits down on the step he'd been standing on. "If you're going to fucking walk off, then do it," he mutters, leaning on the railing beside him. He glares off at the wall in front of him, a downward angle considering he's on stairs. He plays with the bag absently in with his fingers, not actually sure what he's feeling. Upset? But he's not sure what kind of upset; angry or sad or what.**

"I'm not going to fucking walk off," Stan retorted strongly, staring at Craig's back angrily. "You want to know what it is? Fine. I'm tired of everyone who knows you comparing me to Tweek. They don't even have to fucking say anything - I know Clyde was staring at us kissing because Tweek is supposed to be at your table, and he wasn't. Your sister brings up Tweek like right when she sees me. You think it's joking but it's not fucking joking, they were attached to Tweek, and that's how it's going to fucking stay because they're still all friends with Tweek - you're going to be around Tweek all the fucking time. And you know what? Wendy's going to start hanging around Token, so I can't be _bros_ with your _bros_. This is why I didn't want to fucking tell anyone, because everyone makes something really fucking simple so goddamn complicated and I'm fucking tired of it. Maybe this isn't working out. Maybe we're just compatible alone and when we're around people we're a fucking wreck."

**Craig drops his bag the short distance to the step as he hears Stan go on. He's upset about… Tweek. Fuck. Craig should have known this would come up eventually. Truthfully, Craig is glad Tweek hasn't been around, because the only reason he broke up with Tweek was because of that trip. And when he found out that it was a trip, and Tweek not ignoring him, he'd felt like actual shit. There was no reason to have hard feelings between then, and Craig fucked it up by getting with Kenny. He actually still… well, he loves Tweek, but more as a bro now. His love for Stan had hit him like a fucking train, and it was overwhelming, and just completely overshadowed the romantic love he'd had for Tweek.**

**But even if he's over Tweek, things are still awkward. And Stan is right; everyone is used to Tweek being around, so the first thing they're going to think when they see Craig is **_**'Where's Tweek?'**_** And that's not something Craig should be associated with anymore, but it's not really his choice. They were together for a long time, so it's something people will always remember.**

**And Wendy… it's true that Token has been hanging around her, but he's known Token has had a thing for Wendy for a lot longer than he and Stan have been together. And, thinking about Wendy, it's reminding Craig of Sharon. She hates Craig, because he's a **_**bad influence**_**, and he's also pretty sure it's because he's not Wendy. …and a 'he.' This thing with Stan's mom has actually been bothering Craig for quite some time, but right now is not the time for Craig's problems, he has to talk to Stan about his.**

**All of his previous frustration is gone as he'd realized how much Stan is hurting over this thing with Tweek. He stands back up and turns around to hug Stan tight to his chest.**

"**I'm sorry," he says, loosening his hold a bit because he sort of has a feeling that Stan is going to rip away from him. "People will always associate me with Tweek; I can't really help that… But if you stick around, soon they'll associate me with you, instead. And… I don't really know what to say about Wendy… I'm not going to stop hanging out with my bros, but I guess you don't have to come with me… They really do like you, though; that's just how they are. If they were overly nice to you, I would have been worried because them being dicks means they approve. I don't know… if you think it's not working… um… I guess…" he trails off, not really wanting to say anything more because he doesn't want to think about it.**

"I know they accept me. They fucking accept me as Stan, not as your boyfriend. They're being dicks because we know each other and we get along anyways." Stan muttered, but instead of pulling away, he buried his face in Craig's hoodie, not giving a crap if someone saw. They were already littering his locker anyways. It was only two or three notes in the past week or something, but still, it wasn't anything he couldn't throw out and ignore.

He stayed leaning against Craig for a minute or two, thinking. Was he really bothered by the Tweek thing? Yes, definitely - it was on his mind all the time. Almost like he was trying to fit a spot where Craig was missing Tweek, by having him do things like hang out with him at lunch with his friends, not hang out with Stan's. But maybe Stan had been doing the same to Craig, trying to do public displays of affection, while also trying to not show the world he was dating Craig - those were completely mixed signals. It bothered him a lot that he couldn't admit he was irritated with loving Craig. It was almost like admitting defeat, and they had fought for the past several grades, so it was hard to get over. But he wanted to, he really, really wanted to.

"You guess...?" He questioned, his heart dropping when he realized Craig might be proposing they discontinue their relationship.

"**That's because they've seen me with you what, once? They're just not used to it; after all we fought for fuck knows how long. They just haven't had a chance to see **_**us**_**," he says, knowing it's true. He's actually pretty sure Token sees it for what it is, considering Token has been helping, and he's listened to Craig bitch and helped him when he was scared Stan was going to die. Clyde, though, is quite fucking dense. He might have to catch them making out in a closet at a party before he really catches on, but that's not important. Clyde means well, no matter what.**

**When Craig realizes that Stan isn't going to pull away, he tightens his hold again, not wanting to let Stan go. It's almost painful to actually say. "If you don't think we're working then… leave me," he says, feeling his heart drop through to the floor. He's never been one for keeping someone in a relationship they're not happy with. If Stan isn't happy, he should go be happy somewhere else. Craig will get over it… eventually.**

"I don't want to leave you." He immediately said, a little bit louder than he normally would speak and with a lot more emotion. With a frown, he pressed himself against Craig, his eyes closed. For a moment, he forgot he was even in the hall with the occasional set of students walking past them. If he had been more aware, he would know that a few of his baseball team members were walking down the hall nearby, and watching the two hug.

"I'm just sick of people. Let's like, go somewhere isolated and just be us."

_"Somewhere like __**brokeback mountain**__." The tallest spindly baseball kid said, strolling past with a group of three others. They laughed and continued walking._

**Craig is about to respond when he hears some fucking kid make a comment. No; not fucking right now. Just **_**no**_**.**

**Craig drops Stan from his arms, turns, and decks the kid right in the face. He hits him **_**hard**_**, and watches him fall tumble down the stairs with the force of his punch. He shakes his hand out and mutters, "I'll be right back, Stan," and he starts to make his way down the stairs after him. There's no fucking way he's going to let someone get away with that. No one fucking talks to him like that; and not to Stan. Fuckers like that are the reason Stan is afraid to sit with him at lunch. Fuck that.**

Stan heard the comment, but for some reason he was thinking Craig could control himself. When he realized a bit too late that this wasn't true, he reached out to try and grab Craig, and ended up descending downwards after him down the steps. "Whoa - Craig, wait! Craig, stop, dude - you're going to kill him!"

_The tall blond fell against the wall at the halfway point of the stairwell, and reached up to touch his bleeding nose. Enraged, he said, "Fuck, Marsh! Control your fag!" _

"Not fucking helping," Stan yelled as he reached out to catch the back of Craig's hoodie. "Craig, **stop**."

"**You know; killing him might just be the stress relief I've been looking for with all this shit I've been dealing with. He's an easy fucking target, thinking he can fuck with me," he says, approaching the blond that he doesn't even know. "Why the fuck shouldn't I?" he sneers, glaring at the other kid. He's got maybe an inch on Craig, but he's not deterred. No, this fucking asshole is fucking with the wrong person. Craig will be damned if he lets someone talk to Stan that way. He's probably the one leaving those fucking notes in Stan's locker. The thought pisses him off even more and he thrusts his fist up into the blond's stomach. Craig watches his back hit the wall just behind him, and loves the breathless **_**'oof'**_** that the other utters. Maybe a beating is exactly what this kid needs to realize that certain things just aren't okay to say.**

**He brings his fist back for another hit, glaring so hard he's sure he'll shoot lasers again.**

"Jesus fucking Christ, Craig! Do you want to get expelled?" Stan exclaimed as he followed him down the rest of the steps to the platform where he was beating the crap out of the kid. "That's Smith, he's on the fucking baseball team! You know, the one I'm on - you're going to get me suspended!" He wasn't sure if his boyfriend beating the crap out of another team player qualified for suspension, but he really didn't want to find out. He might not like baseball that much, but he did play it because he was good at it, and there was a chance for minor scholarships from it. He wasn't nearly as good though at baseball than football, so it wasn't that big of a worry - but still.

Putting himself in between him and the kid, he caught Craig's fist and then pushed him back a little, but not that rough. Then he turned to the other kid and said, "Get lost, just seriously, fuck off."

_Another one of the baseball players walked over to help the other kid off the wall, and they hurried up the stairs to the hall - all four left._

**Craig tries to lessen his glare when he looks on Stan, but it doesn't really work. He might not be pissed at Stan, but he's still pissed, so the look is just sort of stuck for now. "You know I'd do a lot more that get fucking expelled if someone is hurting you," he says quietly, trying to keep his previous anger from his voice. Not really realizing that it's probably a bad idea, ha reaches forward and takes Stan's jaw in one hand, bringing their lips together for a brief, tender moment. When he pulls back, he's no longer glaring. "Is he the one that's been giving you shit?" he asks. He's not intending on following him, but he'll make sure he gets what's coming to him eventually, by some means.**

Surprised by the sudden change in demeanor after a kiss, Stan's eyebrows raise temporarily as he studied Craig's face. His hands had idly hung by his sides after the encounter, but now he moved to put one hand on Craig's shoulder, rubbing it comfortingly.

"Craig, I honestly don't know who the hell put notes in my locker but it's no big deal because they're douches who have nothing better to do." His own body language indicated he was ready to fight before, but now he was relaxing, and he felt a bit relieved. Smith was always an asshole, so watching Craig throw a punch was pretty...sexy. It was kind of like watching Wendy beat the crap out of Cartman. Only this time there was some sort of increased thrill because before Craig would have watched and cheered from the sidelines if someone had said something like that to him - and now he might have just gotten expelled for what he just did. The expulsion didn't excite Stan at all however, just the fact Craig would go that far.

Moving a bit closer to Craig, he kissed him on the lips a bit harder, pressing against the other in appreciation. Pulling away he looked away with half-lidded eyes as he gazed up at Craig, and he said, "That was extremely hot." He let a daunting pause extend his sentence before he added coyly in a quieted tone, "I think what we were doing before was considered fighting. Want to go solve it the easy way?"

**Craig is surprised when Stan comes back for a second kiss, considering what just happened was because of them gaying up the stairwell. At Stan's words though, Craig gives an almost disbelieving chuckle before giving Stan a sly look. "Are you suggesting that we skip class and go fuck in my car?" he asks, quiet enough so no one will hear but Stan, as he pulls him in closer by his waist. Who knew Craig fighting would be a turn on for Stan? "Because I think that might be considered 'bad,'" he says, holding Stan to himself. He's glad they're not fighting anymore, and he's glad Stan seems to not be upset anymore, and he's glad Stan isn't leaving him, and he's glad he just beat the shit out of someone for insulting his boyfriend, and he's just glad he has Stan.**

"That's exactly what I'm suggesting," Stan said with a smile, though he was now becoming more aware of the people walking around them. With a glance around them, he slowly backed away from Craig, and then pulled out his phone to check the time.

"Want to go then?" He asked, glancing back to Craig with a smile on his face. He actually was happy the topic changed - before, he thought that maybe...no, he was pretty sure he would have stayed with Craig. But why did Craig even suggest leaving..? Did he want to?

No, that was dumb.

"If I miss anymore school I'm getting expelled during finals and we're going to fail this year but let's go do it. Who gives a fuck about school."

**Craig's grin falls to a bit of a frown when Stan mentions failing. "Fuck, Stan, don't fail for something like this, come on," he says, worried about Stan's scholarship. He's also worried about the fact that Stan's grades have been slipping because of him. That's probably not good. "…maybe just a quick one," he says, also not really wanting to deny Stan. Walking around school thinking about it would definitely be painful.**

"It's fine, I don't really want to go to college anyways," Stan said as he turned away to walk towards the parking lot. Truthfully, he wanted to go to college and join the team there, but football was seeming less and less important lately to his wellbeing. In fact, it was almost a nuisance, because it meant he had to take more time away from Craig. Which a year ago he would have laughed at the thought.

"What do you mean by quick?" He asked as he strolled along, wondering why Craig wanted anything quick.

"**That's bullshit Stan, you know you want to go to college. And I mean quick because I don't want you to fail," he says, following Stan toward the door. To make the conversation not as serious, though, to prevent another fight, he adds, "Besides, we've never done it just quick. No foreplay, no anything, just a **_**good hard fuck**_**." He slides his eyes over to Stan, taking his hand and starting to lead toward the parking lot.**

"**Maybe we should do it in your truck, instead. Your front seat is bigger."**

"Uh...Craig," Stan said as he allowed the other to take his hand. He really wanted to say 'hard fuck?' but he realized Craig was trying to lead him somewhere that no longer existed.

"My truck is busted. My dad drove me here today," He said with a frown. After asking his mother for a loan to get another vehicle, and after she denied he, he had given up hope on ever getting a new transportation device. He would have asked Craig to drive him but they were already late enough as it was in the morning, picking him up would just make it later.

"So your car is fine."

"**Fuck, I forgot," Craig mumbled, heading toward his car. Not really wanting to talk about it anymore, since it involved Damien, he just says, "My back seat is fine, then."**

**When he gets to his car, he opens the back door and all but tosses Stan inside, watching him land on his back as he crawls in on top of him, closing the door behind himself. He leans down and kisses Stan, trying to shift a bit so that they're more comfortable. "So do you know how a quicky works?" he asks, staring Stan in the eye with a grin on his lips.**

Stan smiled slightly as the other pushed him into his back seat - he was liking where this was going. But how the hell were they going to do..? Okay, so maybe he was a bit unimaginative like Christophe had said, but he didn't see how this was possible. Craig's car was small. When Craig climbed on top of him though, he went "...oh," almost seeing how this was possible. Almost.

"Uh...no. Um...Craig, can't people see us." He knew the goths skipped class and stayed out in the parking lot all the time - not to mention the teachers went places for lunch. "I'm starting to think this is a bad idea. Maybe we should just go to your house and fuck on your bed or something."

"**You afraid?" Craig asks, a bit tauntingly, even if Stan probably had reason to worry. "Weren't you the one listing all the places you wanted to fuck at? And wasn't school one of them? If you'd like, we could just go back inside the building," he says, moving a hand down to caress Stan through the front of his jeans. He's a bit excited to be in the car, actually. It's been a while since his car has seen any action.**

"Oh..umm..mmm..no," Stan said as he felt the other carressing him, and he tilted his head upwards towards the window above him. "But it's ...there's windows..and people could look in.."

He knew he was fighting a losing battle though, and one hand had already roamed upwards to rest on Craig's hip - the other remained resting on the back of the seat.

"But ...like...what if..." He tried thinking of a scenario that was displeasing, but that wasn't working. "Oh, whatever."

He moved his hands to start undoing his belt buckle.

**After Stan's failed attempt at excuses, Craig is pleased to see Stan go for his belt. Craig undoes his own pants as well, and then leans unintentionally – not that he's complaining – against Stan as he reaches under his seat. After a moment, he comes back up with a small bottle of lubricant. "I knew this was in here," he says passively as he starts to tug on Stan's pants. When he gets them just low enough, he pops the top on the lube and squeezes some onto his fingers.**

"Whoa, wait," Stan said as he watched Craig tug down his pants only part way, and then go for the lubricant. He felt the other pressing against him, and he was really struggling with having an issue because he sort of missed the way they had done it before his episode with topping. But, he'd never tell Craig he actually preferred bottoming.

"Wait, my pants aren't off. Um, Craig - okay, never mind, keep going.."

**Craig kisses Stan before pressing a finger into him, holding the kiss steady for a few seconds. "Don't worry, Stan, I like teasing you too much to skip foreplay forever. This is just going to be less, because I want you to get back to class, but I want you to feel good first. That's the art of a 'quickie,'" he says, pressing another finger into him to continue his preparation. He doesn't know if that's what Stan is thinking, but it's what he's thinking. He loves their drawn out kisses and the biting and the rolling around and everything that normally comes with sex with Stan. But he really does want Stan to graduate, so he's going to skip that stuff just this time.**

He moaned slightly as Craig went right into it, not giving him anymore time to bitch. It did make him think that he might bitch way too often, though, if he was protesting a quickie and it felt this good. Goddamnit, Craig. He wanted to tell Craig he could go for foreplay too, but now that they had skipped that...oh well.

_A little ways away from Tucker's car, Mr. Garrison slammed his door shut and then opened the back door to grab his briefcase. "Back to this hell hole," He muttered as he walked towards the high school, and then spotted a car with a kid in the back seat. _

_"What, are they skipping out to masturbate now?" Mr. Garrison said, when he spotted another hand - ...another hand. _

_"Oh...oh my." He said as he hesitated, and then got out his phone and pulled up the camera. Walking over, he briefly wondered who it was - but then he identified the familiar hoodie._

_"Oh, jesus christ. Are they really going at it this often." He said as he knelt down, ducking below the side and listened._

**Craig finishes up Stan's preparation and then pulls himself out of his pants. As a last second thought, he spots some McDonald's napkins on the floor and picks them up. When Stan comes, he doesn't want to have to scrub it out of their clothing before going back inside the school. He positions himself at Stan's entrance and asks, "You ready?" even though he knows he'll probably get bitched at for it.**

"Yeah," Stan said, still looking around outside the car - a little distracted even though he had a preferable situation to be attentive to right in front of him. He thought he might have heard something outside the car, talking or something - but he didn't want to mention it. What were the chances anyone would look in? ...small, right?

He glanced down at Craig's lower half, and then back up at his eyes. "Do you really have to be quick."

_Garrison heard the conversation, and he had to bite his lower lip to keep from chuckling darkly. Oh, how he loved these crazy teenagers. Especially Craig Tucker. Even if the boy always got in trouble, it was more entertaining than bothersome._

_Making sure his phone was ready to take a quick shot, he waited for Tucker's response._

**Craig leans down to give Stan another kiss, before pulling away with a bit of a smirk. "No, this part will take just as long as it normally does, but sorry if it gets a bit rough," he says, pushing his way inside. It was meant to be teasing, but it's also a bit true. He's excited to be topping again after the other day. Even if he'd enjoyed it at the time, he can't imagine anything better than being on top of Stan. And he won't be able to help it if he can't hold back.**

"Nghnnn.." Stan reached up to grab the seat, digging his fingers into it as he put his other hand on the edge of the seat beneath them. His legs were around Craig's shoulders, and he was pretty certain that it was more than obvious what they were doing in Craig's car from any possible onlookers. Instead of realizing that however, he focused on his tensing muscles and closed his eyes as he pressed the back of his head against the seat cushion.

_Right as he heard Stan's groan, Mr. Garrison put the phone up in the window and held it there as he hit the snap-shot button. If they were looking, it'd be obvious someone was taking a picture of them doing it in Craig's backseat._

**Craig doesn't give Stan quite as long as he normally would to adjust, figuring that they'd done it enough times by then that Stan is used to it. He picks up a quick pace, gripping onto Stan's hips as he pumps in and out of him. He shifts a few times until he hears Stan react to his sweet spot, and then he focuses each of his thrusts. When he feels himself getting close, he knows Stan must be close too. He fumbles with a hand to find the napkins to catch his load with. He comes not long thereafter.**

_Halfway through, Garrison decides to put the phone down after two snapshots and finds the video to record_. _Hitting record, he tapes the entire act._

Stan groaned again, gripping the seat as Craig pumped into him. He had kept his eyes closed for most of the time, and now as he heard Craig fumbling for something, he wondered if he wanted him to wait. After he came, he breathed erratically and heavily as he rolled his eyes upwards, and saw something that at first he was confused at seeing. ...was that a phone? ...a hand?

It took him all of two seconds to connect the dots, and he screamed, "OH MY GOD! SOMEONE HAS A CAMERA, JESUS CHRIST!" He tried pulling his pants up and scrambling to hide, but fell off the seat into the place between front and back on the floor.

"**A what?" he asks, shocked as he looks up. He sees it in the window and near breaks his jaw with how hard he clenches it. Why the fuck are they getting so much shit today? He fastens his pants back up before pushing his way out of the car. He throws his fist before he sees who it is. When he looks, he freezes, horrified. "What the **_**fuck**_**!" he says, standing over his teacher.**

"What the fuck," Stan said as he fastened his pants, but then realized he was feeling...well, he hadn't cleaned up. And the feeling was leaving him, so he grabbed some napkins and tried shoving his hand in his pants to solve it, still terrified by Mr. Garrison standing outside of the car. How fucking creepy was that! When Craig left, he watched the other, staying safely inside the car as he waited for Craig to beat the crap out of Garrison. And probably get expelled, but at this point, Stan wouldn't care.

**Before Craig does anything else, he takes Garrison's phone, promptly deletes any footage he'd taken, and then snaps it in half. "I'm not going to beat you because you're my teacher, but you'd better get the fuck out of here before I decide to press charges," he says, glaring Garrison down. If Garrison doesn't leave in the next four seconds, though, Craig might just snap and start beating him into the pavement. How fucking creepy of a human being does he have to be to tape them having sex?**

_Watching his phone be snapped in two by Tucker, Garrison rolled his eyes again and walked off. He didn't want to bother with this right now - besides, they were heading to his class anyways, and that would be funny as hell to torture them during class with throwing in random gay innuendos as he did when they were kids. Only now they'd know he saw them doing it and he was saying the innuendos at them._

As soon as Garrison left, Stan slowly opened the car door ajar but sat on the seat - he was sort of absorbing the shock of being filmed.

"...uh. What the fuck." He said finally, not sure what else he could say to what just happened.

**Craig watched Garrison leave before scoffing and turning back to Stan. "What a fucking goddamned pervo. I don't think he actually say, though, because his phone was in the window not his face. …um, you okay?" he asks. It's honestly not the first time Craig has been caught in the act by someone, so he's not quite as shaken by it as Stan probably is.**

"No," Stan said, his face still sheet white. He was leaning on the seat, having it hold up most of his weight as he stared off at Craig blankly. "Um...why are you so calm. Garrison just totally creeped on us doing it in your car."

"**That's not exactly the first time I've gotten walked in on, and I broke his phone so it doesn't matter," Craig says, dropping the two halves of the phone on the pavement before stooping before Stan. "It'll be fine; he talks a lot anyway. No one will think it's true if he says anything," he tries to comfort Stan a bit by rubbing a hand on his arm.**

"We're dating, of course they'll think it's true," Stan said indignantly, his eyes narrowed as he looked towards Craig a little dejectedly. He really didn't want to hear the rumors that would go around after something like this was spotted by someone like Garrison. Realizing what class they had next, he moaned loudly as he turned and hit his head against the cushioned back of the seat.

"We have fucking Garrison's class next..."

"**Well… I hate to sound like a dick, but who **_**cares**_** who knows? I mean it's not like we're the only kids in this school who've skipped to fuck," he says, trying to make it sound like less of a big deal. It really isn't that big a deal, but he knows it's a bit traumatizing the first time you get caught. "And don't worry about Garrison, he fucking tortures everyone, not just us. It'll blow over after today."**

He knew Craig was trying to minimize the issue, but the damage had already been done. Stan still had the paleness of a corpse as he moped where he sat.

"Can we just skip class today...please. Let's go somewhere else." Really, he wouldn't care if Craig wanted to actually go somewhere - but he just wanted to go hide in a hole or cuddle with Craig somewhere dark ...and hole like.

"Garrison's been on our case all fucking month...I doubt he's going to forget tomorrow, Craig. I just want to go somewhere not here okay..."

Giving Craig a depressed look, he arched his eyebrows in a way he appeared similar to a sad puppy.

"**Really? The puppy dog look?" Craig asks, sighing with his own defeat. "Fine, where do you want to go?" he asks, stepping away from Stan to go to the door next to them. He climbs into the driver's seat and looks back at Stan, waiting for an answer. He really doesn't care where they go, and he actually kind of just wants to go home.**

Shutting the door, he slumped in the seat without putting on the belt. He was still in the back, not bothering to move into the passenger's side. "I kind of just want to go home," He said, though he paused and said, "...you know, your house."

It was an odd way to word it, he knew - he felt more at home now at Craig's than his own. He never had actually voiced that though, so he wondered what Craig would think of it.

**Craig doesn't really know what to do with himself when Stan refers to his house as 'home.' It's a good feeling, a warm one, and he suddenly doesn't give a single fuck that Garrison just filmed them having sex. Stan feels like Craig's house is home.**

"**Yeah, we can go home… Um, don't you want to climb up here?" he asks, starting the engine. He waits to put the car in gear, though, looking back at Stan for a response.**

Stan sighed as he crawled into the front seat, noticeably putting his ass in Craig's face as he maneuvered around the seats. Placing himself into the seat, he crossed his arms over his chest as he sunk down into the chair, still embarrassed. Goddamn Garrison and his pervert ways. He was sure he would go gray by twenty the way things were going.

**Craig watches Stan climb, and is amused by the fact that he feels the need to stick his ass in his face, even after they just got caught going at it. "You look cute when you're pouting," he says, starting to drive. He pulls out of the parking lot and starts heading toward his house.**

**After a while of silence and thinking, he says, "You know, I can still get that apartment…" He leaves it open ended, not knowing if Stan will catch his drift. Stan had just referred to Craig's house as 'home,' and if he wants it to be home then… it can be.**

Stan stayed quiet, his blue eyes shifting over towards Craig as he mentioned the apartment again. Before he had been a little uneasy about it, because it was a big step, and he didn't want people knowing about them. But now that Craig had beaten up Smith and almost Garrison, and Stan actually wanted to go home with Craig instead of his own house, he was seriously considering it. His birthday would be this year - 18, and his parents couldn't argue with him if he wanted to move out.

"Let's do it." He said after a moment, realizing he really did want to do it. Why not? Having their own place, they wouldn't have to sneak around anymore. He was sick of sneaking around. He never had to do that with Wendy, but with Craig...it was almost like they needed to isolate themselves from other people just to be happy.

"**Let's do it?" he asks, sliding his eyes over to Stan for a moment before looking back at the road. He wasn't expecting Stan to agree so easily. He wonders why he offered so easily, but he finds himself not bothered by it. Their whole relationship actually has been moving really quickly, and it doesn't make Craig worry as much as it should.**

"**Um, alright, I actually looked at one maybe a week ago, and I can go make the down payment later or something," he says, nearing his own home. He's kind of excited.**

"You looked at one already?" Stan asked, vaguely remembering it, but still feeling left out. He immediately resumed sulking in the seat, even though Craig told him he looked cute doing it. It seemed like it was rewarding him to sulk, but oh well. With a sideways glance, he looked out the window and watched the scenery pass.

"Did you not want to do it," He inquired, wondering why it sounded like a question when Craig repeated what he had said. Pursing his lips, he looked back at Craig with his eyebrows narrowed.

"**Yeah, I want to do it," he says, pulling into his driveway. He does have a bit of an uneasy feeling about it, though, but not for the reason Stan might think. There's only one apartment complex Craig can afford… "After I take you back to your house today, since you're grounded, I can go over there and sign the papers."**

**He knows it's not as easy as he's making it wound, but in a way, it is. He can go sign the papers, and they can haul all their shit over there in Stan's truck. Easy.**

"Okay," Stan said with little resistance. If Craig said he wanted to do it...well, Craig wanted to do it then. He was starting to believe whenever Craig told him he would do something; even though there was still that underlying feeling Craig might go 'PSYCH' and then tell him to fuck off. He hadn't done that though since before the locker rooms, so Stan's grudge was starting to dissipated with every additional second he spent with Craig.

"I have to talk to my parents though...since I'm seventeen." He opened the car door, and then turned to Craig. "I think my mom will probably say no."

"**Fuck, I forgot that your parents actually care what you do," he mutters, shutting off the engine. He also remembers again that Stan's truck is totaled. It's hard to remember when Stan didn't actually get hurt from it. "Um… fuck, there's not really a way I can get around that. If your parents don't let you, I could get charged with kidnapping…"**

"Yeah..." He slipped out of the car, and then leaned back down to look at Craig as he thought about what he could do. Really, until he turned 18, he couldn't think of any other solutions.

"Don't worry about it Craig..." Stan said quietly after awhile, frowning. "...I'm sure my mom will come around eventually." The key word was eventually - he knew his mother had fixed point of views on certain topics, and she quarreled with his father frequently over them. It was frustrating that he had two sides of the coin to go to when he needed a solution - sometimes it was a good thing, but right now it wasn't because he really wanted her to be okay with Craig.

**Craig gets out of the car after Stan, excitement officially smashed by his own frown. Why the fuck do parents automatically have a stigma against him? He has a feeling if he were anyone but himself, Stan's mom would be just fucking fine with it.**

"**I'm sorry," he sighs, feeling bad that Sharon hates him so much. "I can just stay here then, whatever. No one here cares how often you come over, if you're just going to sneak out to see me anyway…"**

"Yeah..." Stan sighed as he leaned on the car, looking at the ground as he realized he probably should have a talk with his mom. Like that was going to help any - she was pretty against him hanging out with Craig, he couldn't imagine what she was thinking when she found out he was dating him.

"Craig...I don't think she wants me dating you."

**Craig's jaw tightens involuntarily when Stan speaks, and he leans on the opposite side of the hood from Stan, his back toward him. Fucking **_**no one**_**'s parents want **_**Craig Tucker**_** dating their kid.**

"**No, she probably doesn't," he says, keeping his voice even. It's not something he hasn't heard before, but it's never quite pissed him off as much as it is now.**

"I'm probably kidding myself thinking this is going to work...my family will probably ostracize me or something for dating you," He dragged the tip of his shoe over the pavement, clearly moping. His families' opinions mattered to him, regardless of how idiotic he thought they were from time to time. With a frown, he looked over at Craig, noticing how tense he appeared to be.

"...you okay?"

**Craig turns and opens his door back up, not exactly sure what he should be doing. "Maybe I should just take you back to **_**your **_**house where you belong," he says, sliding into his seat and shutting his door without waiting to hear a response. It's not really Craig's choice anymore; especially not if Stan's parents don't want him around. There's not a lot he can do about that. He just grips his steering wheel and waits for Stan to get back in the car.**

"What?" Stan turned, and opened the door a crack so he could talk to Craig. "What the hell was that for? I don't want to go home." He narrowed his eyes at Craig, sensing the other was pissed off. That, and the way he was gripping the steering wheel indicated that he was less than pleased with Stan. "Seriously Craig, I don't want to go home. I'll deal with my parents later okay. I want this to work, I'm serious - I'm just...I just care about what my family thinks, okay."

"**Yeah, I know you care, Stan, but that doesn't really matter, does it? If you aren't **_**allowed**_** then, you're not allowed. That's how it works," he says, just staring intently at the garage door in front of his car. He might be overreacting, but there's been too much going on today that points toward them not staying together and this is just the last straw that Craig can take. He really just needs to fucking relax, and there's no way that's going to happen if things keep coming up.**

"No, goddamnit...ugh." Stan pulled open the door all the way so he could sit down, but left it open so Craig couldn't take off down the street without his door being ajar.

"No, Craig, just let's go inside and forget about today, okay. I don't want to fucking think about it." He reached over and wrapped his arms around Craig's neck, and moved his hand through Craig's hair- something he knew Craig would like and might calm him down.

**Craig sighs and lets his grip loosen a bit when Stan hangs himself from his neck. "I can't just **_**forget **_**about it; your mom fucking hates me. That's not really okay. And I can't even do anything about it because when I see her I just get pissed off and I don't think I'd be capable of holding more than a two minute conversation with her before telling he to fuck off – look, can we not talk? Just, at all? Everything has been really stressing me out today, and I'm really about to fucking die," he says, his face actually scrunching a bit with the amount of discomfort he's feeling. "I could really use a fucking smoke," he mutters, without really thinking.**

Still massaging the other's scalp with his fingers as he ranted, Stan frowned as he failed to comfort Craig. Hearing how pissed his mother made him didn't make him feel any better, either - he hadn't realized Craig was that annoyed. Lowering his arms he sunk back into the passenger seat, and then moved to open the door.

"Want to go smoke then?"

He knew Craig might have mentioned marijuana, but at this point, he really didn't care. If Craig was this miserable, he had to do something to make him feel better. Even if it was something he really didn't care to do.

"**Why'd you let go?" he asks, looking over to see that Stan is getting out of the car. Oh. He puts his own hand on his door handle, sighing as he pushes it open. "No, Stan, I'm not going to smoke, you don't like it," he says stepping out of his car for the second time. He shuts it and waits for Stan before making his way toward his front door.**

Shutting the door behind him as he got out, Stan shoved his hands into his pockets and then walked towards the door as well, following right behind Craig.

"I don't really like it, but maybe that's because I've never tried it. I mean, if you wanted to smoke, _we_ could smoke."

"**We?" Craig asks, opening his door and heading inside. "I'm not even sure if I have any; I haven't bought in a while," he says leading the way up to his room. "I guess I can look but… are you sure?" he asks, skeptical. Stan had been so against it before, and now he's offering to try it? Ha; Sharon will only love him even **_**more**_** if she finds out Craig gave Stan marijuana. "I don't know if it's a good idea."**

"Why wouldn't it be a good idea, you do it. Kenny does it." He knew that was the worst argument ever - just naming people who do marijuana so Craig gives it to him. Hey, he responded to peer pressure - why wouldn't it work on Craig? ...then again, Craig was pretty solitary.

"I'm sure, god. Seriously, I don't get what the big deal is. Uh..." He followed the other up the steps, thinking briefly of his mother. If she found out he was smoking pot...there would be hell to pay.

"Um, well, I just won't go home tonight, okay. I'll stay here."

"**Stan it's fine; don't get in trouble. Don't you get drug tested at work anyway?" Craig asks, not bothering to look to see if he has any before flopping onto his bed. "Let's just… do something else."**

**In truth, that's all he really wants to do right now, and he's pretty sure he has enough left for a full bowl. But no; he's not going to smoke it with Stan around, especially when it's going to get Stan in trouble and probably end up driving them even further apart by pissing off Stan's mom. Just no.**

Sitting on Craig's bed, he leaned so he was lying on his back as he put his hands over his midline. "Really, Craig, I'm serious. Let's just smoke pot. I don't care if I get in trouble. And it's not like they're going to drug test me, it'll wear off before I have to go back to work."

He wasn't going to tell Craig he didn't plan on going to work this weekend, he didn't need to know.

"Just get the fucking pipe or whatever the hell you use and let's do it." He was really being lazy with his demand though, seeing as he passed out on Craig's bed, staring at the ceiling as he spoke.

"**Stan, you wouldn't even know how to do it," he points out. He lets his mind wander for a second, thinking that it might actually be really cute to teach Stan how to hold the bowl and how to work the carb. And if Stan couldn't figure it out, they might end up just resorting back to shotgunning. That would be easier on Stan's lungs, anyway. "No," he says again, more to himself that time.**

As if he could read Craig's mind, he said absentmindedly, "What, are you afraid I won't be able to work the pipe? You can just shotgun with me or something. Come on, you've had a fucking stressful week and I'm pretty much the cause of it, let's do this."

He turned to look at Craig, arching his neck as he stared at him.

"Come on."

**Craig turns his head to look at Stan, not sure how much he cares to argue anymore if Stan is going to be this insistent. He still **_**really **_**doesn't think it's a good idea, but who is he to tell Stan no? "Fine," he relents, sitting up. He goes over to his desk and opens the drawer. Out of a tin box, he retrieves his glass bowl and a little baggie of weed. Just like he thought; just enough for a bowl. He grabs his grinder and a spiral notebook as well before coming back to the bed.**

**He sits cross-legged and puts the notebook in his lap. He opens up the plastic bag and dumps its contents onto the notebook. He breaks up the leaves enough to fit in the grinder and then sets to work. He glances up at Stan, wondering if he even knows anything about what's happening. The first time Craig smoked, he had a million questions, but he never asked any of them. Just watched and learned. After packing the bowl, he holds it in his hand for Stan to see.**

"**Got a lighter?"**

Stan sat up, watching what Craig was doing with the dried plant. He had only seen it in movies, so it wasn't that different from then- only now, he could reach out and touch it, but still. With his lips pursed, he left himself propped up as he viewed the preparation.

When Craig held it up and asked for a lighter, he leaned forwards so his legs were off the side of the bed and dug in his pocket to get out the lighter he carried with him. He held it out, the broncos logo on the side visible.

"**Okay, I'm going to explain, and then demonstrate, and then you can try, alright? So what you want to do is exhale first; that's important. Then what you want to do is put your lips on this end here," he points, "and put your thumb over the carb," he points again to the little hole on the side of the bowl, "and then you take the lighter and light the leaves. After you light them, you're going to start to inhale, which will fill this chamber here," he puts a finger on the chamber of the pipe, "and after a few seconds you take your thumb off the carb and you inhale the smoke. Questions?" he asks looking up to Stan instead of at the bowl in his hand. He's itching to light it, but he can wait if he needs to explain more.**

"Ummmmmm..." Stan stared at Craig as he explained, briefly looking at the bowl, and then arching his eyebrows in slight confusion. Really, it looked simple, but he was feeling less then confident when it was something he was so against earlier. "Uh..."

He was about to take it from Craig, but then he pulled his hands back and set them in his lap idly as he said, "I don't get it, why don't you do it and I'll just...uh...I don't know, maybe then I'll get it."

Giving Craig a less than enthusiastic gaze, one akin to fear, he waited for the other to do it.

"**Well I told you I'd demonstrate, but," he notices Stan's uneasy look, "like I said, we don't have to do it at all if you don't want to." He continues to hold the bowl between them, waiting for Stan's response. "And if it's because you don't know what you're doing, I can help you."**

"No, we're going to do it, but just...you do it, and then I'll do it, okay," Stan said, reaching out to push the bowl a little bit towards Craig, gently. He looked at it for a moment and then put his hands back in his lap, waiting for the other to do whatever he was going to do. He knew Craig wanted him to try it on his own, but he wasn't feeling that bold right now.

**Craig shrugs and brings the bowl to his lips. "If you way so," he says, lighting it and starting to take his hit; releasing the carb after an adequate amount of time has passed. After a few long seconds, he brings the bowl away from his lips and holds in the smoke as he speaks. "Like that, and then you hold it in to let it sink into your system and then," he exhales, letting the smoke filter into the room, "you blow out."**

**He moves to sit behind Stan, bringing the bowl in front of him. "You want me to help you?" he asks, leaning his chest on Stan's shoulders and resting his head beside Stan's. Even if they just fucked an hour ago, it's still been too long since they've been close.**

Blushing slightly as Craig moved in, he gave him an irritated sideways glance as the other moved to put his head next to his, and the bowl in front of his face. "Uh..." He said as he looked down, feeling his face burning. The smell that he didn't care for all that much was now infiltrating the room. A thought came to mind as he smelled it though, and he gave Craig a cross glance as he said very straightforwardly, "...you are such a hypocrite. 'Don't smoke in my room, Stan'. Like this isn't fucking smoking, you asshole. But yeah, help me. Where the hell do I put my mouth and what do I shove my finger in and when do I let go."

It all sounded strangely sexual, and it only made him turn redder.

"**This doesn't stick to the walls like tobacco does," Craig points out. "But okay, give me your hand… and hold it between your fingers like this," Craig instructs, holding Stan's hand around the bowl and placing his thumb against the carb. "Now when I light it, start to inhale, and then let your thumb off this little hole when I say so." He brings the bowl up to Stan's lips, ready for him to take. "Ready? Exhale first, and make sure not to inhale too hard, because it'll make you cough all over everywhere if you take too much your first time. Nice and easy," he says. He really can't stress enough how Stan shouldn't hit it too hard, but everyone does their first time. Maybe he should have brought up a tub of ice cream or something, to ease the burning that will be in Stan's throat. "Just tell me when to go."**

Stan couldn't push the thought out of his mind that this was totally disgusting and he didn't want to do it, but he put his mouth on it anyways and inhaled. He wasn't that stupid though - he only inhaled a bit after he exhaled, and he coughed once as he drew back, glaring at Craig as if this was his fault.

"Umn...okay, what am I supposed to be feeling." He asked awkwardly, wondering if this was going to be a bad idea. With the way Craig was all over him that one night, he was pretty sure unless he completely was the opposite, that they'd end up having sex at least five times. At least. ...or so he was hoping.

"**Well, nothing yet," Craig says, bringing the bowl back to his own mouth for another hit. "You've only hit it once, and you didn't hold it in for very long. It'll take a few hits for you to get anywhere, especially since you're new to this and your body doesn't recognize it."**

**He inhales the sweetly sour smoke and keeps it in for a moment as he brings the bowl back to Stan. "Think you can do it yourself this time? Or can I keep helping you?" Craig asks through his own cloud of smoke. He's actually kind of looking forward to seeing Stan high. He's going to get a major body buzz, seeing as it's his first time, and he's going to want Craig to just keep touching him. Craig is damn glad Stan convinced him this was a good idea.**

Feeling slightly nervous, Stan picked up the bowl and took another hit. He wasn't enjoying the method to the madness, but if Craig was happy, then he would deal with how it bothered him. With a frown, he held it for thirty seconds and then breathed out, feeling a little lightheaded.

"Okay." He held the bowl back out to Craig. "Can we still fuck after this, because if we can't, I'm quitting."

"**Stan, we just fucked," Craig points out with a chuckle, noticing how long Stan held that in for. That was quite a bit; he's totally going to **_**feel**_** that in about a minute. "But yeah, if you want," he finishes, taking his own second hit. He gives it back to Stan, saying, "One more and you should be good." Three should be about the magic number, considering how long Stan just held that last one in. If he does that again, he'll be **_**gone**_**. Ha, he's interested to see how this is going to turn out. The things Stan will say, or want to eat, or want to touch, or suggest doing. People generally have some pretty interesting ideas while high.**

"Fuck _you_." Stan retorted hotly, narrowing his eyes at Craig as he took another hit, holding it in for a short time before breathing out. "I don't feel anything besides feeling tingly and it's making me want to fuck you like, in Token's house or something. Or let's just fuck here, okay, no one is home, and we could do it like..in new positions, because Christophe totally said that we were fucking lame for not doing it in new positions and I think he's a fucking bastard who needs to go fuck something like hard."

He couldn't even come up with something for Christophe to fuck himself with, which made him more irritated. "Like once he told me he would never let me top, like the fucking nerve because I wouldn't fuck some guy who doesn't know how to fucking bathe."

"**Yeah, you're high," Craig chuckles, he looks and the leaves still happen to be burning, so he wraps an arm around Stan's waist as he takes a particularly hard hit. Craig was hoping to get a little more buzzed, but he'd feel weird sitting there still smoking while Stan is already so gone. He wouldn't be able to enjoy Stan's high if he was ignoring his for a bowl. "And you really do talk to him too much about out sex life. There's no reason he should know exactly what positions we do it in." He's a little bothered by the 'he told me he would never let me top' thing, considering that meant Christophe had been talking about sleeping with Stan, but he's sure Stan is using it out of context or forgetting details since he's high.**

"**Anyway, how do you suggest we do it, then?"**

"But he asks and he's annoying so I tell him everything," Stan said, not aware that none of that made sense or should lead to telling Christophe intimate details of their sex life. With Craig's arms around his waist, his hands moved to touch Craig, and he felt almost like his skin was feeling way more than it should. Everything was...weird. He was wondering if he was real, but he knew that was a stupid question to ask, so he decided to internalize the question as he tried to remember what he was doing. Oh yeah. Craig was touching him.

"Let's just fuck like...I don't know. Christophe said doggy style. Let's fuck with me on my knees, okay. Or bound up, I don't know. That could be fun. I want you to tie me up, okay, like...I don't know, tie me up with something and tell me I'm not going anywhere until you have your way with me. And then touch me everywhere. Inside too. Everywhere, Craig. Do it."

"**We sort of already did that, but okay, sure," Craig says, not moving. If Stan really wants to get up and initiate sex, he can, but until then Craig is just going to hold him to his chest. "You don't remember being on your knees, hands tied behind your back, getting fucked? Because I remember, and that's what you just asked me to do again."**

"Yeah..." Stan said after a moment, vaguely remembering what happened. He smiled and said a little coyly, "But I liked that, so why not do it again. God, why aren't you fucking touching me, why are you bear hugging me." He looked down to try and pry Craig's arms from his middle. "Stop it, just do something, you're being so goddamn slow and stubborn and you're an idiot when you're like this."

**Honestly a little offended by that idiot comment, Craig just drops his arms and lets Stan away. He backs up on his mattress and just sits there fuming for a second before he tries to get over it. His buzz doesn't really let him stay mad that long, anyway, so he looks over to Stan. "You really want me to tie you up? Because I could easily just bend you over," he says, wondering how much Stan actually wants right now. He's surprised Stan is more worried about sex than finding something to drink. Normally the sense of cottonmouth is pretty overwhelming when you don't know its coming.**

Moving to turn so he could lay himself onto Craig, his arms slid around the other's neck as he nuzzled him. With an incoherent murmur, he petted the hair on the back of Craig's head and then ran his fingers upwards through it, gripping his hair intensely. "I really want... a fucking drink. And you. And fucking water or something, can I give you a blow job under water like...in the tub or something. Let's go do that, okay," He pulled at the other's hair as his hand slid downwards, rubbing upwards against the fabric of Craig's shirt, dragging it upwards. Then he dropped his fingers lower against Craig's bare stomach, trailing lower and lower until he snaked his way around the other's pantline.

**Craig doesn't bother to point out that Stan would drown trying to give a blowjob underwater because he highly doubts that they'll make it all the way down to the bathroom. He does however try to resist Stan's touches long enough to lean and put his bowl on his night stand. If he'd forgotten to do that, he'd have spilled weed all over his bed, and that's bad for many obvious reasons. Stan tugging on his hair, though, was a little hard to ignore. He brings his hands around and lands them on Stan's lower back, bringing him in close. "Mini fridge," he manages to say, trying to keep some coherent thought. "If you drink something, you'll feel a lot better. I don't want you trying to actually eat me because you have cottonmouth," Craig jokes. Though the thought of Stan going down on his hungrily is actually a bit arousing. He'd be so eager, swallowing him whole. "Or you can skip the drink."**

Feeling Craig pulling away, Stan whimpered slightly as he tried to move his hand quicker, hoping to keep Craig's interest. What was with him, why didn't he want this? When he noticed the clink of the bowl, he realized Craig was just putting it down. What a bastard, caring more about the fucking weed than Stan. When he pulled him closer, both of Stan's hand's went to the other's pants, unfastening them but struggling with the button at first. "No, I want you," He said with a frown, gazing at the other with an unwavering intensity. "Fuck the drinks, I want you."

"**Killer," Craig says, leaning in and stealing Stan's lips in a kiss. He has a feeling this is going to be exciting. He wonders if Stan's body buzz has kicked in already, because if it has, his already sensitive skin on his lips will be even more intensified. **_**Everything**_** will be intensified. He's glad no one's home, because if they do end up fucking, which is likely, Stan will probably get loud…er. All of his nerve endings will be hypersensitive.**

**He runs his hands along Stan's arms, going for skin contact. He catches the hem of Stan's shirt and brings it up over his head, throwing the shirt away from the bed so he's free to run his hands along Stan's now bare chest.**

"**You feel high yet?" he asks, even though it's obvious by Stan's behavior.**

"You're a fucking tease," Stan growled as he shoved Craig back after his shirt was off. Why was he moving his hands at a time like this? He JUST had gotten Craig's zipper down when the other decided Stan's shirt needed removing. What a dick. Speaking of dick...

Moving his hands back down to Craig's pants, he forced his hands down past the other's boxers and inside to caress him. Narrowing his eyes as he moved closer to Craig's face, he bent down to run his tongue against the other's neck- all the way upwards until he reached Craig's lower lip, which he nipped and tugged slightly with his teeth. It didn't help that his mouth was a bit wetter than usual, which certainly Craig would be able to tell now.

"You ask some really fucking stupid questions. You just wanted me high so I want you in my mouth, don't you. Bastard."

**Craig shivers as Stan tugs on his lip with his teeth. "Hey, I was only doing it because I know your skin feels good. And no; I told you no but you insisted on getting high. Not my fault that's what you want now," he says, focusing really hard to get the words out. It's hard to concentrate with Stan's hand on his dick, though. Especially with his one track high mind. "I had no idea that when you got the munchies, it'd be for cock." It's actually kind of a funny thought, but right now Craig is more turned on by it than anything. "Kiss me," he says, really wanting it.**

"Only yours," Stan said as he reached up with one hand to grab Craig's chin and forcefully kissed him, just to get him to stop bitching about it. Really, every time they got hot and heavy, he wanted to be kissed. Couldn't he just shut up and let him do what he wanted? Usually he was more accommodating, but god, he just wanted him in his mouth.

Pushing down Craig's pants until he could pull him out, he lowered himself off of the bed so he could move Craig to a more comfortable position. Really, he didn't want a neck cramp because of this, and he really wanted to enjoy it. Running his hand up Craig's stomach as he moved downwards, he realized Craig wasn't entirely hard. What the fuck. What if pot made him lose the ability to...? No, he would just have to fix that.

Using his tongue, he ran the flat surface from the base to the tip, looking upwards at Craig as he did so.

**Craig wants to complain that Stan didn't kiss him long enough, but before he says anything he's being moved to the edge of his bed. Stan sure is pushy when he wants something. He watches as Stan moves his head down, and feels a chill travel down his spine as Stan runs his tongue along him. His eyes lock with Stan's, and somehow it makes the moment a lot more intense. He bites lightly on his lip and continues to stare, enthralled with the look on Stan's face, and the way his tongue melds to the side of his cock.**

With one hand moving towards the other's left hip, and the other at the base of Craig's cock, Stan looked at Craig for a moment. His brain was so muddled right now, he couldn't focus on one thing for more than five seconds, except for the fact he wanted to feel the texture of Craig on his tongue again, and every sensation was amplified so it was driving him up a wall. It seemed like some sort of evil ploy though; that Craig faked denying him twice just so he would want to do it consensually, knowing Stan would want to give him a blow job. The taste lingered on his tongue as he thought, and it brought him back to what he was previously doing.

Gripping the other's hip intensely while stroking his thumb idly on the curve of Craig's hip bone, he went back down and put him in his mouth. Pressing his tongue against the contours, he moved his hand forwards as he gave a few powerful sucks, moving at the same time to coax the other as he took him in.

**Craig watches Stan for another few moments, wondering what he's thinking about. He slides a hand into Stan's hair, feeling it slip between his fingers. He feels Stan's thumb stroking his hip, and it makes him near shudder when Stan begins to suck. It's just the best; combined with the high feeling in his brain and the way Stan just starts right in with it, it's just **_**good**_**. "Stan," he tries to warn, but before he can tell his instincts no, his hips thrust forward.**

Stan wasn't expecting Craig to buck, so when he lunged further down Stan's throat - it triggered one of Stan's worst involuntary reflexes. He felt burning and he immediately pulled away, and then threw up on Craig's floor. With tears in his eyes, he said rather angrily, "You fucker, I can't believe you just did that, oh my god...you hate me," He said as he looked around for something to clean up the puke with, feeling nauseous still.

"**Fuck, Stan, I'm sorry," he says urgently, a little more than upset that he just did that. He even made Stan get sick; what the fuck. "I just - you need to hold me down when you do that…" he trails off, actually a little ashamed by his level of self restraint. "I don't hate you, no, I'm sorry," he apologizes again, sinking to the floor near Stan to give him an apologetic hug. "I'll go get something to, um, clean with. I love you, okay?" he says. As shitty as Craig feels, Stan probably feels even worse. "Yeah, so um, I'll be right back." After a tight squeeze he stands to go find cleaning supplies.**

Sitting on the floor and curling his knees up to press them against his chest, he stared at the vomit with a miserable feeling brewing inside. Great, now he threw up on Craig's floor. And he was already feeling like nothing was making sense, and he didn't like that the tingling sensations continued even when he was furious with himself - it didn't help at all. Right now, he felt like crying more than anything, and he was really trying hard not to.

Waiting until the other returned, he fell silent, his arms crossed on top of his knees and his chin resting on top of them.

**Craig comes back up a few minutes later with the necessary products, and also a plastic bag to throw all the paper towels in. "Just lay down or something, okay? I got this," he says, kneeling down at the mess. Really, Craig isn't the kind of person to actually take responsibility for something like this, but he feels like shit for doing that to Stan, so the least he can do is clean up the results.**

**After he's satisfied that there's not going to be too much of a stain, he stands with the bag in his hand. "I'm going to go throw this out and wash my hands and stuff," he says, turning back toward the door.**

**He comes back a minute later and all but throws himself onto the bed next to Stan in exasperation. That fucking sucked. Well, not literally. "You want to just take a nap? You won't be high any more when you wake up," he says, wrapping an arm around the other.**

Stan had laid down on the bed numbly, his hands on his head as he curled up in a halfball. Hearing Craig work behind him was making him feel worse - after all, Stan threw up on the floor, and now Craig had to clean it up. With a frown, he waited until the other came back from cleaning up and climbed in the bed, and wrapped an arm with him.

"Okay," He said sadly, and then closed his eyes and put one arm down on the bed next to him, the other lying on Craig's arm. Why did he have to have a stupid overactive gag reflex? Now it ruined the whole evening, and it was his fault. He drifted off into a rocky sleep, breathing deeply next to Craig.

* * *

(Sorry for slower updates, you guys! Stanmun and I have been reeeeally busy, and some stuff has come up, sadly. We still try to log every day, but it takes us longer between chapters, we going to start kind of skipping days, or something, idk, but we're still updating as often as possible~ Also, if you're still reading this at this point, thank you so much for the continued love! We really appreciate it~~)


	35. 06 07 2012

**06.07.2012 (Sorryyyyy that I haven't updated this in a while; life has just been life-y. D; I apologize and I promise to try to keep up better, don't hate me dfkgbsdf)**

* * *

**Craig Tucker: **You'll never believe where the fuck I just was

**Stan Marsh: **Where

**Craig Tucker: **I was shopping

**Craig Tucker: **with your mom

**Stan Marsh: **...this isn't like a joke right

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Stan Marsh: **why were you shopping with my mom

**Craig Tucker: **I don't really know, she just asked me to go with her

**Stan Marsh: **ok

**Stan Marsh: **well

**Stan Marsh: **did it go well

**Craig Tucker: **Actually, she says you're allowed to move in with me

**Stan Marsh: **...really?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **uh

**Craig Tucker: **And also not to let you catch anything on fire

**Stan Marsh: **thats cool

**Stan Marsh: **...goddamnit

**Stan Marsh: **I only did it once

**Stan Marsh: **with the dryer

**Craig Tucker: **It's okay, really, I can just do the laundry

**Stan Marsh: **heh

**Stan Marsh: **you're going to do the la

**Craig Tucker: **By the way, you should let me read those poems now

**Craig Tucker: **or, when you get back

**Stan Marsh: **ah fuck

**Stan Marsh: **sorry

**Stan Marsh: **dropped phone

**Stan Marsh: **uh

**Stan Marsh: **how about no

**Craig Tucker: **why not?

**Stan Marsh: **they're embarrassing

**Craig Tucker: **No offence, but what don't you do that's embarrassing

**Craig Tucker: **It's cute

**Craig Tucker: **So show me

**Stan Marsh: **fine

**Stan Marsh: **but just one

**Craig Tucker: **one?

**Stan Marsh: **one poem

**Stan Marsh: **thats it

**Craig Tucker: **Why just one?

**Stan Marsh: **because its embarrassing and I don't want you reading it? Like you could read my short stories but I'm not going to show you all my poems.

**Craig Tucker: **Fine, okay

**Stan Marsh: **Why do you want to see them anyways

**Stan Marsh: **Poems suck

**Craig Tucker: **Because you wrote them

**Stan Marsh: **You haven't shown me anything

**Stan Marsh: **I think this is unfair

**Craig Tucker: **I didn't say you couldn't see, you just forgot

**Stan Marsh: **...you don't actually want to read my short stories do you

**Craig Tucker: **Why wouldn't I?

**Stan Marsh: **...seriously, I don't even share those with Kyle

**Craig Tucker: **Well I'm not Kyle, am I

**Stan Marsh: **Uh..no, but no one reads it but me

**Stan Marsh: **And I like it that way

**Craig Tucker: **Fine

**Craig Tucker: **So should I make the coffee every morning too?

**Stan Marsh: **Now you're pissed

**Stan Marsh: **Ok fine you can read my goddamn short stories but if you hate them then it's your fault

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not pissed, your business is your business

**Craig Tucker: **And I wouldn't hate them

**Stan Marsh: **You say that now

**Stan Marsh: **And I can make the coffee, why wouldn't I

**Craig Tucker: **Because I don't want you hurting yourself with it

**Stan Marsh: **...why would I hurt myself

**Craig Tucker: **After your mom figured out I wasn't a delinquent asshole like she thought, she talked a lot

**Stan Marsh: **...about what

**Craig Tucker: **You

**Stan Marsh: **What did she say

**Stan Marsh: **Goddamnit I didn't think anyone noticed the coffee thing

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not actually sure if she was trying to ward me off of wating to live with you or if she was trying to help, but she told me a lot

**Craig Tucker: **Things to look out for because you're apparently forgetful and stuff

**Craig Tucker: **But that's okay, most of it just sounded cute

**Stan Marsh: **..I am not

**Craig Tucker: **Well we'll just have to find out when we move in, won't we

**Craig Tucker: **I'm going wednesday to sign the papers, by the way

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know when you want to move in, but that's when I am

**Stan Marsh: **Ok..uh..I guess then too

**Craig Tucker: **Well it'll take a week or so for my application to be processed

**Craig Tucker: **So it won't be until next week that we actually get to move stuff in

**Stan Marsh: **...but we'll be living there after Wednesday

**Craig Tucker: **No, we'll be living in our houses until they approve my application

**Stan Marsh: **Um, I don't know what my mom told you but if it was about the towels that's a lie

**Craig Tucker: **She didn't say anything about towels

**Stan Marsh: **And about the milk

**Stan Marsh: **...oh

**Craig Tucker: **She didn't say anything about that either, but it doesn't matter

**Craig Tucker: **You're like, quirky and it's adorable okay, just stop

**Stan Marsh: **...uh thanks? I guess

**Craig Tucker: **Anyways, that was your mom's only condition was that you stay home for another week, so that's a good time frame

**Stan Marsh: **Uh..ok

**Stan Marsh: **And I only broke the garbage disposal once and that's because I didn't know grease is bad

**Craig Tucker: **Stop trying to defend yourself because you're only going to point out things she didn't say

**Craig Tucker: **It's okay

**Craig Tucker: **We'll be living in the same house, no sneaking around, no hiding bullshit, that's all that matters

**Stan Marsh: **And if she told you about the porn mag I only tried flushing one okay

**Stan Marsh: **I was thirteen and I didn't want them to see it

**Craig Tucker: **Stan, the hole your digging yourself is so deep

**Stan Marsh: **Well what did she say

**Craig Tucker: **Just quit while you're ahead

**Stan Marsh: **Ugh

**Stan Marsh: **So the apartment allows dogs?

**Craig Tucker: **...I don't actually know, but she said she's keeping Halftime...

**Stan Marsh: **...what?

**Craig Tucker: **She said that she's her dog, so she's keeping her

**Stan Marsh: **...but halftime is my dog

**Craig Tucker: **I can check into the apartments and make sure it's okay, but you're going to have to talk to her about that one

**Stan Marsh: **Ok..I don't want to move away from my dog

**Craig Tucker: **Uhm, you don't have to

**Stan Marsh: **I just want her to come with us

**Stan Marsh: **Like she's old and I don't want her to die when I'm not there

**Stan Marsh: **We like do everything together I don't want to leave her

**Craig Tucker: **I can't really help that, you just have to ask your mom

**Stan Marsh: **Like we even brush our teeth together I can't believe my mom is going to keep her

**Craig Tucker: **I'm sorry Stan, all I did was ask because I didn't want to fight your mom after she started to like me

**Craig Tucker: **Just tell her how important your dog is and maybe she'll let you take her

**Stan Marsh: **Ugh it's not your fault

**Craig Tucker: **You should still talk to her when you get home

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah but I guess an apartment might not be good for her

**Craig Tucker: **How far out are you, anyway?

**Stan Marsh: **She has problems with her hindlegs

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, she's have to climb stairs to go outside

**Stan Marsh: **Uh like five minutes why

**Craig Tucker: **Where did you go?

**Stan Marsh: **...no where

**Craig Tucker: **You know that wounds sketchy, right

**Craig Tucker: **Not that I don't trust you, but "I just went no where all day with this guy who said he'd fuck me" doesn't sound good, for future reference

**Stan Marsh: **...just don't ask about it ok

**Stan Marsh: **It's nothing bad

**Stan Marsh: **Uh Christophe wouldn't fuck me, ok, he's a bastard and I am not interested at all

**Stan Marsh: **He just was helping me out with something

**Craig Tucker: **Stop trying, you're just making it wound worse

**Craig Tucker: **I know you're no interested, it's okay

**Stan Marsh: **Like even if I was single and Christophe was the only person on the planet I wouldn't fuck him ok

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, I know

**Stan Marsh: **Ugh I always make it worse, why do you like me

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to tell you I'm planning something

**Stan Marsh: **Ok on groupon I got a discount on staying at this haunted hotel and I wanted to make sure it wasn't lame before taking you ok

**Stan Marsh: **So I asked Christophe to go

**Craig Tucker: **You didn't have to ruin it if you were planning something; just choose your wording better next time

**Stan Marsh: **fine.

**Craig Tucker: **Anyway, that's all I wanted to tell you was that you mom kinda likes me now and that we can get the apartment

**Craig Tucker: **What are you doing for the rest of the day?

**Stan Marsh: **Sleeping

**Craig Tucker: **Did you not sleep?

**Craig Tucker: **It's like 6

**Stan Marsh: **yeah well there is no such thing as too much sleep

**Craig Tucker: **I guess

**Stan Marsh: **I work tonight at 8 anyways

**Stan Marsh: **So it's just a nap

**Craig Tucker: **I don't need a reason, you can do whatever you want

**Stan Marsh: **Anyways I'm gonna go ok I'm home

**Stan Marsh: **Bye

**Craig Tucker: **Alright bye


	36. 06 11 2012

**06.11.2012**

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **Hey Craig

**Craig Tucker: **Hey

**Stan Marsh: **What are you doing

**Craig Tucker: **Nothing much

**Stan Marsh: **...like what

**Craig Tucker: **Like nothing

**Craig Tucker: **What are you doing?

**Stan Marsh: **Uh

**Stan Marsh: **Looking at Craigslist

**Craig Tucker: **For?

**Stan Marsh: **Not really for anything..

**Craig Tucker: **Exciting

**Stan Marsh: **Uh..well I look at the pet section

**Stan Marsh: **And if someone posts that they're giving away free guinea pigs I tell them to mark them fifteen so they're not used as snake food

**Craig Tucker: **you watch for shit like that?

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah

**Craig Tucker: **That's cool

**Stan Marsh: **..really

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I really shouldn't look on there

**Stan Marsh: **People piss me off

**Craig Tucker: **Then don't do it

**Craig Tucker: **People are going ot do whatever they want anyway; don't let it get to you

**Stan Marsh: **They're dumbasses, I know

**Stan Marsh: **I just hate that animals have to put up with their dumbassery

**Craig Tucker: **Hey what are you going to college for?

**Stan Marsh: **To learn?

**Craig Tucker: **Okay yeah, but what are you going to major in?

**Stan Marsh: **Uh...I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **You should be like, a vet or something. Then you could like, educate peoplw when they bring their pets in and stuff

**Stan Marsh: **Uh...

**Stan Marsh: **I don't think I could do that

**Craig Tucker: **Why not?

**Stan Marsh: **I'm bad at every subject leading up to that

**Craig Tucker: **I dunno, it was just a suggestion since you were getting pissed off about dumbass pet owners

**Stan Marsh: **Oh...um ok

**Craig Tucker: **What?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **You think I could be a vet and I don't know, it's flattering I guess

**Craig Tucker: **You're flatterable

**Stan Marsh: **...I am?

**Craig Tucker: **Yes?

**Stan Marsh: **Didn't know that

**Craig Tucker: **Well yes, you could probably be a vet if you tried

**Stan Marsh: **I kind of want to work with animals

**Craig Tucker: **Then do it

**Craig Tucker: **Even if you didn't want to be a full vet, I'm sure you could get a job at the shelter or something

**Craig Tucker: **Like a job, not volunteer work

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah...they offered before but I think I'd get too attached to the animals if I was around all day

**Craig Tucker: **Well you like kids, right? You could teach at a vocational high school or something

**Craig Tucker: **Like teach animal care

**Stan Marsh: **No I like the idea of my kids

**Stan Marsh: **Other peoples kids are annoying

**Craig Tucker: **Hahaha of course they are

**Craig Tucker: **But that would be a nice job; you'd even get paid summers

**Stan Marsh: **I already have a job, Craig

**Craig Tucker: **I'm talking about after college

**Craig Tucker: **A career

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to work with kids

**Stan Marsh: **Why is this important right now?

**Craig Tucker: **They's be teenagers

**Craig Tucker: **I dunno, it was just a topic

**Craig Tucker: **If you want to change the subject then do it

**Stan Marsh: **Ugh whatever

**Stan Marsh: **My mom gave you the life after high school speech didn't she

**Craig Tucker: **Not exactly, she just asked what I wanted to do

**Stan Marsh: **That's how she gets into your brain

**Craig Tucker: **But that's not why I was asking, I was asking because you were talking about saving the guineas from snakes and bad pet owners

**Stan Marsh: **Oh..well yeah that's like something in my freetime I do

**Stan Marsh: **It's like burying roadkill

**Stan Marsh: **Animal respect

**Craig Tucker: **Well then what else do you want to talk about?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know..

**Stan Marsh: **Can I get a teacup dog?

**Craig Tucker: **Really?

**Stan Marsh: **We can hide it when they inspect the apartment

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know if dogs are allowed; they might be

**Craig Tucker: **But why a teacup dog?

**Stan Marsh: **We can hide it during inspections

**Stan Marsh: **Duh

**Craig Tucker: **Well if they're allowed can we just get a normal dog

**Stan Marsh: **Ok

**Craig Tucker: **I would step on a dog that small

**Stan Marsh: **Omg

**Stan Marsh: **you would break my soul if you stepped on a teacup dog, dude

**Craig Tucker: **You also know that it costs more to rent if we have a dog, right?

**Stan Marsh: **No, that's a retarded rule

**Craig Tucker: **Well dogs and cats cost money to own

**Craig Tucker: **In a house, that's your house, but in an apartment it's not technically _your _property

**Craig Tucker: **So they make you pay

**Stan Marsh: **Ok, whatever..I'll just snuggle mellow at night and get a waterproof cover for the bed

**Craig Tucker: **Why can't you just snuggle me?

**Stan Marsh: **Because you snuggle me and I get to hug the air

**Stan Marsh: **You're a serial spooner, Craig

**Craig Tucker: **I'll buy you a stuffed animal, then

**Stan Marsh: **It's not the same

**Stan Marsh: **I want it to breath that's a requirement

**Craig Tucker: **Well Mello would probably get squished if you slept with her, so I don't suggest that

**Stan Marsh: **Ugh I don't know aren't you going to get sick of me when it gets hot

**Stan Marsh: **You won't want me all over you at night

**Craig Tucker: **No, I always want you on me

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah until the air conditioning fails and I get booted to the edge of the bed snuggleless

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Stan Marsh: **That was the single most laziest retort ever. "no."

**Craig Tucker: **Well I'm never going to not hold you unless you tell me not to, so that's the only think I need to say

**Stan Marsh: **Then you'll die if heatstroke or something..

**Craig Tucker: **No I won't; even if the air conditioning died we could buy a fan

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah I guess..

**Craig Tucker: **Why is this an issue anyway? It's already hot outisde and I still hold you

**Stan Marsh: **..true

**Craig Tucker: **You okay?

**Stan Marsh: **..yeah

**Craig Tucker: **The incomplete ellipsis is unnecessary unless you want me to ask what's wrong

**Craig Tucker: **So what's wrong

**Stan Marsh: **Nothing, I just type those

**Craig Tucker: **Okay

**Craig Tucker: **So what are you doing now

**Stan Marsh: **Playing freerice

**Craig Tucker: **What even is that

**Stan Marsh: **Uh it's ..um

**Stan Marsh: **

**Craig Tucker: **I see

**Stan Marsh: **I'm bored

**Craig Tucker: **I didn't say it was bad, I just didn't know what it was

**Craig Tucker: **Hold on, I'm going to go find something to eat

**Stan Marsh: **Ok..

**Stan Marsh: **Um, Craig

**Stan Marsh: **Are you upset because I threw up on your floor?

**Craig Tucker: **No, why would I be upset about that? It was kind of my fault

**Stan Marsh: **Uh..I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **So everything is ok then?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah it's okay

**Craig Tucker: **Were you worried about that?

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **Now that I know though

**Stan Marsh: **Can we go fuck around somewhere? I'm horny

**Stan Marsh: **I finished my last exam today so tomorrow is pretty much show up and get my notebooks after they're graded

**Craig Tucker: **What do you mean somewhere?

**Craig Tucker: **You just drastically changed topics

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **Well you're eating you probably don't want to fuck right now or something

**Craig Tucker: **Stan

**Craig Tucker: **Really

**Craig Tucker: **I always want to fuck you

**Stan Marsh: **Then why the fuck aren't we doing something right now besides typing? Goddamnit Craig

**Craig Tucker: **Because you didn't ask?

**Stan Marsh: **Well ok so where are we doing it

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, wherever you want

**Stan Marsh: **..uh

**Stan Marsh: **Give me a minute to think

**Craig Tucker: **Can't we just do it in my bed for once?

**Stan Marsh: **We already did that

**Stan Marsh: **And I don't want your hat in my mouth right now, it feels funny on my teeth

**Craig Tucker: **I really couldn't give less of a fuck if my parents hear you

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want them walking in ok

**Stan Marsh: **Or ruby taping the sounds and you tubing it

**Craig Tucker: **Why would Ruby do that; that's sick

**Craig Tucker: **Anyway whatever, where do you want to go?

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah well I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **Give me a minute god I am trying to think where

**Stan Marsh: **...aw fuck now I don't feel horny anymore I'm just sad

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Stan Marsh: **If I move to the apartments I'm not in walking distance of Kyle anymore

**Craig Tucker: **Then don't move

**Stan Marsh: **...seriously

**Stan Marsh: **It's just as easy as that

**Stan Marsh: **You don't want me moving in do you

**Stan Marsh: **Dude my mom did scare you off

**Craig Tucker: **No, she didn't

**Craig Tucker: **But if you want your dog and Kyle then don't move

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not making you or anything

**Stan Marsh: **Ugh

**Stan Marsh: **But now it's like choosing between you and my dog and Kyle

**Craig Tucker: **Well that's not my call

**Stan Marsh: **I want to move in with you

**Craig Tucker: **And I have a car

**Stan Marsh: **..ok

**Stan Marsh: **Then I'll just visit Kyle and my dog, ok

**Stan Marsh: **It's not like you're tying me up all day, just at night

**Craig Tucker: **Which reminds me, we still need to take a trip up to Denver

**Stan Marsh: **..want to do that tonight?

**Craig Tucker: **If you want

**Stan Marsh: **Ok pick me up in ten

**Craig Tucker: **Alright

* * *

**Craig takes his time getting around, considering Stan had told him he had ten minutes. He grabs his wallet and his keys and slips on his hat. He eventually makes it out to his car and makes his way over to Stan's house.**

**He stops in Stan's driveway and sends him a text saying that he's outside. He'd considered going inside, but if Sharon was in there she'd probably ask where they were going, and he's not about to come up with a good enough lie. So he waits in the car.**

Stan came out after a minute, wearing his usual jacket, shirt, pants and shoes - though the jacket was not his letterman. It was warm out but he still liked having something over his shoulders that was heavier than a shirt. Walking out to the car, he climbed in and then stayed silent for a moment before he asked, "So do we know where we're going or are we going to drive around Denver like idiots?"

"**I looked a place up the last time we talked about it to see if there's actually anywhere to go in Denver, but we're still probably going to drive around for a while before we find it. It's called The Crypt," he says, backing out of Stan's driveway. He starts down the street and heads toward the highway. "Just don't get… overwhelmed when you go inside," he says, knowing there will probably be a lot in there that Stan's never seen. Hell, there'll probably even be stuff that Craig's never seen.**

"Why would I get overwhelmed," Stan said, although it was evident he was nervous because he got kind of quiet towards the end of his sentence. He leaned back in his seat as they drove along, watching out the window. Really, he didn't expect to be comfortable inside anyways, and the only thought he had was that Mr. Garrison might be in there, which creeped him out to no end - but how would Mr. Garrison know when to go to a bondage shop at the same time as them when it was an hour out? And especially before the last day of school, it was silly to be concerned.

"**There's just going to be a lot to choose from," Craig says, having already sifted through their website. They had some pretty… interesting things to offer. He has a feeling they'll stick more to the restraint section, but who knows what might peak Stan's interest. Craig has a feeling his bed will be seeing a lot of new things soon…**

"...like what," Stan really hadn't thought too much about what there might be. In fact, he hadn't even thought of asking Craig to give him a link to a website or anything, and he wondered if he should have. Shifting uneasily, he was quiet for most of the ride until they got near the familiar exit - the one he had sped past with Christophe the other day. With a frown, he looked at the passing cars and then glanced towards Craig. "Uh...so...how much can we afford?"

"**That depends on what you want," Craig says, maintaining an even speed. He's not really in a rush to get there, not that he's dreading it or anything. It'll just be interesting to drag Stan through the shop since Stan has no idea what he's getting himself into. "I only have like… $150, but I can't spend it all because I need it for gas and stuff. I mean, I have more in the bank, but that's savings for the apartment and insurance and stuff." He waits a minute before continuing. "What **_**do **_**you want?" he asks, thinking back on all the things he'd seen on their website. Why didn't they just order the shit online?**

"...uh, stuff? To use? I don't know what else there is besides handcuffs." Stan admitted, though he sounded nervous as he watched the buildings pass. "I have like...two hundred with me, but that's because I take out more money then I need and just use it for like four weeks, so I can't use it all now."  
When Craig mentioned insurance, he mentally said, 'ohhhhh' to himself. He totally forgot about the insurance costs.

"**Stan. There's a **_**Hell**_** of a lot more than just handcuffs. Where did you think we were going?" he asks. They're not even half way there yet, so maybe he should at least… inform Stan in case he wants to turn around and go home. "There's different kinds of cuffs, as a starting point. There's ones made of different kinds of materials, and for different parts of the body, like wrists, arms, ankles, legs, et cetera. There's even um, hogties. And there's things like slings and shackles and gags and blindfolds and… toys. And shit like body paint and bondage tape and probably a lot of other things you've never even heard of. We're going to a **_**fetish shop**_**, Stan; of course there's more than just handcuffs."**

As Craig listed the different items that they would see, Stan started sinking in the passenger seat, feeling his face burning as he turned a deep shade of red. He looked towards the window, trying to keep himself from saying 'let's turn around', because Craig seemed like he really research this and he didn't want to disappoint him. Truthfully, he was kind of interested, but way too embarrassed at the idea of going in a public area and buying that with Craig. ...that was actually probably a nightmare he had at some point, but it never came up until now when he actually was approaching the reality of it.

"...uh...we can just..look." That was all he managed to say, and as he did, he moved his hand to cover his mouth as he leaned on the window, his elbow propped up on the very bottom ledge where it met the glass. His mind kept going back to hogties and slings - how the hell did that work? God, why did he want to know how it worked...

**Craig looks over at Stan, seeing the dark flush across his cheeks. It makes his smirk a bit, thinking of the face Stan would be making if they actually had any of these items in their hands; or **_**used**_** any of these items. "You know… if you don't want to go we don't have to… I wasn't trying to like, turn you off to it or anything, I was just letting you know what you're getting into before you walk in and turn right back around."**

"Uh...no, I really...I really want to do it, but...uh...it's." Stan paused, moving his hand from his face, still leaning on the window. "It's just...people will be there. But let's do it, you used gas to go so we should go, and ...uh. Like...how do you use a sling? Is that some sort of hospital fetish like you wear an arm sling or something?" His eyes narrowed, and he really was trying to figure out if he had ever seen that in a porn. Really, his porn was pretty tame compared to like, Kenny's porn, which he tried to avoid.

**Craig is silent for a second, trying to figure out the best way to describe a sling. "Um… It's like a strap, kind of. And it's like… I'd wrap it around your waist, like across your hips, and it has handles that I would hold onto, and it's just to have more control when you, uh, do it doggy style. I think there's other kinds too, but whatever. It's just another control type of thing. It would like… Christ, why do I have to explain it? It would help me drive harder because I could pull you back against me easier while I thrusted." By the end of his explanation, he's more frustrated with trying to find the right words to explain than that he'd actually had to say it. Why can't they just… try stuff, instead?**

"W..whoa." Stan said immediately after Craig's explanation came to an end, and he covered his mouth again. He kept his eyes on the road ahead of the car, trying to keep himself from getting..well, turned on. Craig's explanation...really, Stan was more visual than anything, and picturing that was making him uncomfortable.

"Uh.." He said, a bit muffled by his hand, "...can we like,...rest stop or something.."

"**Why?" Craig asks, sparing Stan another glance. He notices how flustered Stan looks, and wonders just how into this kind of thing Stan is. "I don't want them to close before we get there or this would be a waste of time; we should stay on the road," he says, turning his eyes back to the highway. He changes lanes to get around a particularly slow minivan before looking briefly back to Stan. "You okay?" he asks, having a pretty good idea why Stan wants to stop.**

"How can you like, say something like that, and then not pull over." Stan said rather forcibly, glaring at Craig as he huffed and looked back out of the window. He immediately tried thinking of his mother or some other equally disturbing thought in order to keep him from getting anymore turned on. It didn't help that Craig kept looking at him and then driving. What an asshole, he knew Stan couldn't stand him looking at him.

"Just...keep your eyes on the road and drive." Before he could keep himself from saying it, he added, "Dick."

"**Because if we stopped now and ruined the fun, we wouldn't be able to try anything out once we got home. Besides, I don't want to have to drive after I come; it makes me tired and all I want to do is fall asleep holding you. Then we'd never get there before it closed," he says, sparing Stan another look. In all reality, he really wants to fucking stop his car, but there's no way he's driven this far out just to go back home. No, they're going to go to the goddamn Crypt, buy something new, take it home, and use it.**

"Oh. My. _God._ You are such a bastard, just fucking drive." Now Craig was giving him a detailed description of why he didn't want to stop, and it made Stan drift back to the topic that made him turned on in the first place. He closed his eyes and tried imagining someone kicking a puppy. God, that was awful. But then he thought about how Craig looked so much like a puppy that night he was nuzzling him after getting high. Oh, he was a crafty bastard.

"**How am I being a bastard when I'm driving you all the way to goddamned Denver to go to a fetish shop because you want me to tie you up? Next time I'll remember to not be as accommodating," he says, just teasing Stan by this point. It's cute seeing Stan get all worked up about this, and he wonders how Stan will react when he can actually **_**see**_** the things Craig is talking about. The kind of kinky shit Stan is into, he'll probably even wander over to the body paint section and salivate on the body chocolates. Not that it's a bad thing; no, he loves all of Stan's kinks. It just **_**really **_**makes him wonder what kind of shit Stan is going to get into while they're there.**

"You're a fucking bastard." Stan grumbled, moving his arms to cross them over his chest stubbornly. He wanted to punch him but he was driving, and he didn't want to die en route to a fetish shop. But then again...if Craig was going to be such a bastard, maybe he wanted him to end up in a ditch just to show him how much he appreciated him talking back when Stan wanted something.

Reaching over, he casually put his hand on the bulge of Craig's pants, keeping his eyes on the road while leaning over. He didn't move his hand yet though, he just left it there.

"…**what are you doing?" Craig asks, feeling Stan touch him through his jeans. There's no way Stan would try something while they're in the middle of the fucking highway… is there? Craig isn't sure he'll be able to focus on the road if Stan does, but for now he keeps his eyes trained, making sure there aren't any cars around them. Fuck, what the fuck is Stan doing?**

"What _am_ I doing? Obviously I'm trying to be accommodating, unlike you." Stan said as he started to rub Craig, stroking him with his fingers through his jeans. With a smile forming on his lips as he kept his gaze fixed on the road, he wondered how distracted Craig would get before he went off the road to the pit stop.

"**You're not accommodating me; you're accommodating yourself," he says, trying not to squirm in his seat. Thinking about it is one thing, but with Stan actually touching him he's not sure if he'll make it all the way to the shop. "Seriously, Stan, if we stop they will close before we get there," he says, checking the time. The store is actually open pretty late, but he's not sure exactly how long they'll stop for if they do.**

"Fine," Stan said as he pulled his hand away, and then he leaned back in his seat. Glancing over at Craig, he moved his hand to his belt and said, "...so can I accommodate myself then? Or is that going to distract you from driving too." He started to slowly unzip his zipper, keeping his eyes on Craig as he did so.

"**Are you really going to fucking sit there in my passenger seat and jack one off while I'm driving and I can't even touch you? You're the one being a bastard. But fine, whatever, as long as you clean up your own goddamned mess and promise not to wear yourself out before we get there," he says, keeping his eyes on the road instead of looking over at Stan. He doesn't think he'd be able to look back at the road if he looked over and **_**that**_** was sitting in the seat next to him. Stan, with his pants down, touching himself, face flushed, moaning quietly… Fuck, Craig shouldn't even think about it.**

Unbuttoning his pants and snaking his hand downwards, he began stroking himself. He really didn't want to, but then again, it was Craig's fault for getting into it. He brought this on himself. ...even if Stan was doing it to himself, whatever. Moving his hand in a way he could get more friction, he began picking up speed, and his other hand went to grasp the door handle as he groaned, and then said a little breathlessly, "_Craig_...Craig, oh my _god_. Unghhhh, **Craig**..."

**Craig bites down on his lip and resists with every fucking thing he has in him looking over at Stan. He will not fucking look at Stan, moaning his name so… so fucking deliciously like that. So breathless, and unrestrained. No, Craig has to drive. Stan is just being a dick and saying his name on purpose. Well, if Stan is going to be a dick, Craig will just be a dick right back.**

"**You know," he starts, trying to think of something good enough to get back at Stan, but not really coming up with much. "Maybe we should buy a new bed when we get this apartment, one with bedposts. Then I could actually tie you down, instead of just to yourself. Tie you down and just fuck the shit out of you; drive you into the mattress. Maybe we could get some shackles **_**and **_**the sling and try them both out at once."**

The rhythm of his breathing quickened as he continued to pump, his visible hand's knuckles turning white as he gripped the door handle. "Fuck, _**Craig**_..you fucking dirty bastard, _ughhn_, _**yes**_."

It was hard to say if he was saying yes to Craig's suggestion, or just breathing his name attached to an affirmation in a tantalizing way in order to provoke him even further. His hips gyrated slightly against the seatbelt as he arched his neck, pressing his head against the headrest.

Closing his eyes, he moaned, "**Ahhhh**, _**Craig**_...just...just_ keep going_."

"**Fuck," Craig mutters feeling himself grow hard in his jeans. Why does Stan have to be so… **_**hot**_**? Craig is barely able to resist just slamming on his breaks and stopping in the middle of the fucking road and throwing Stan in the back seat. He has hazard light for a reason; maybe this will be the first time he's ever had to use them.**

**In a sad attempt to drown Stan out - because Craig really can't take it anymore, the sound of Stan's forcefully sultry moans is just too much combined with the knowledge that Stan is touching himself, thinking about Craig, sitting **_**right the fuck next to him**_** – he cranks up the radio, not knowing what station it's on and not caring what chooses to play itself.**

'**Call Me Maybe' plays full blast through his speakers, and thoughts of Clyde flood Craig's brain, instantly killing his boner. Well that was effective.**

When Stan heard Craig mutter 'fuck', he was sure he had him. Then he went for the radio, and turned on 'Call Me Maybe', blasting it through the vehicle. Fortunately Stan had no attachments to the song, and only a _solid _determination to distract Craig enough to do what he wanted. That, and he was turned on by multiple things- Craig, his hat, the slight anger in his voice when he said he was going to shackle him and pound him into a mattress; and the fact was that this game of competition they had created was way too addictive.

_Well, _he thought, merely a trace of logical concentration in his brain among the barrage of physical sensations he was really concentrating on - _I'll just have to get louder than Carly Rae Jepsen. _

"**CRAIG**," He yelled, and then repeated the other's name loudly with every single rhythmic thrust he made against the seatbelt, nearing his end.

**Craig can barely hear Stan over the radio, but he can hear him, and that's enough. He bites his lip again and tries to focus on the road and tune Stan out. Once Stan is finished, maybe he'll let Craig drive peacefully and not live in danger of driving off the side of the highway or getting smashed by a semi. They're maybe 15 minutes out from Denver by now; he only has to wait that much longer to get out of the fucking car and away from this potentially dangerous, definitely arousing situation.**

Letting out a strained gasp, Stan came to his end- his body relaxed as the radio was making its way into a new song. He removed his hand after letting out a relieved sigh, and then looked over at Craig as he loosened his grip on the door handle. Half paying attention to the song, he picked up the word 'came' - then he realized it was playing, 'Glad you Came'. He stifled a snort as he wiped his hand off on his pants, and then stubbornly looked out the window, his arms crossing over his chest. Craig wasn't even paying attention to him, he would give him his time with the radio if he wanted it so bad.

**The utter irony of the new song requires Craig to turn the radio back off. A deafening silence fills his car, and it almost makes him uncomfortable. He chances a glance at Stan, hoping not to see anything that might distract him for too long. "Uhh… Stan…" he starts, his eye catching Stan's pants before he abruptly turns back to the road. "You realize that you just left a giant white handprint on your pants, right?" he asks, not sure if he's amused or worried that the drive might be for nothing after all if Stan would be embarrassed to go in the store like that.**

"Yeah." Stan said plainly, though inside he was battling off a bitter feeling from Craig's lack of interest in being a voyeur. Glancing down at his pants, he realized there was a bit of a mess where he had wiped his hand, and he looked back out at the window a bit angrily.

"You'll just have to go in and buy me some form of pants and then I'll wear them inside, huh."

He was thinking assless chaps, and he really hoped Craig got that image too. Vividly.

**Craig decides to let the rest of the car ride fall to silence, considering Stan's extreme moodiness. It's not like Stan's never denied Craig before, and Craig actually did it for a good cause, and with a great deal of difficulty. Craig manages to find the shop by vaguely remembering an address and parks his car, shutting the ignition off. **

**He doesn't get out of the car, though. He climbs over his gear shift, not exactly gracefully, and gets on top of Stan. He makes sure the seatbelt in undone before pulling the lever to make Stan's seat fall back. He presses his hands into Stan's shoulders, holding him down as he presses a heated kiss to his lips. He lets it draw out, long and slow, progressively becoming more enthusiastic as he allows his tongue to slide into the equation.**

**Eventually, he pulls back and says, "I really did want to pull over, but we never would have made it here if we would have. Let's just go inside, buy some stuff, and go home so I can make you come even harder than you just did." He brushes Stan's bangs back with a hand, staring at him for a moment before sitting up a bit and reaching behind him. He gets in his glove box and pulls out several B-Dubs wipes, ripping one open and scooting down Stan's legs to try and get some of the fresh stain out so Stan can go inside.**

Stan was still in the middle of an extreme pout session when Craig shut the car off, and he was determined to stay that way. His pants were still left undone, and he had lost his drive to do anything because he was convinced that Craig was being unnecessarily cruel. He heard Craig moving though a second later, and felt him mounting his lap and then his eyes widened when he heard the click of the reclining mechanism and it sent him backwards. Feeling the other pressing against his shoulders, he began to say stop, but it came out only as a "mmmm" as the other pressed against him. Now concentrating on the kiss, he lifted his hands upwards to put them on Craig's hips, just as the other pulled away. His immediate thought was: what the fuck.

Listening to the other speak, he narrowed his eyes as he realized there was a however long this trip inside would take, then the trip home between his newly renewed urges. What. A. Dick.

"Goddamnit, Craig," He muttered as he watched the other reach behind him. What was he doing? When he took out a wipe, his eyes widened as Craig went to scrub it off of his thigh like a waitress trying to pick up a guy who spilled a drink in a restaurant.

"Oh, fuck, stop, we'll never get outside," He panicked as he felt his heart racing again, and he reached down to grab Craig's hand.

"**Then you do it," Craig says, holding the wipes out to Stan. "I was only trying to apologize, okay? The faster we can get in and out of this fucking store, the better," he says. He really just wants to run in, grab whatever Stan had originally intended on getting, and just get the fuck out.**

Stan grabbed the wipes from Craig, and then scrubbed back and forth on his jeans until he was sure it looked just like he had wet himself. He threw it on the floor of the car and then opened the car door, and nearly pushed Craig out. He took only a maximum of seconds as he zipped and buttoned his pants and then stood up out of the car and slammed the door shut.

"Okay, let's go."

**Craig stumbles out of the car, a little annoyed that Stan is still acting moody. He pushes the button on his keys to lock the car before reaching for Stan's hand and heading toward the shop. It's a little ways down the sidewalk, and a little bell rings when they enter the store. No one is there to greet them, so he just walks inside, looking around, and then to Stan's eyes. "Where do you want to start?" he asks.**

Letting his eyes adjust to the lighting, he glances over at Craig, and then gives him the most blatantly naive look ever.

".. uh...wherever you're starting."

He really wasn't trying to be difficult- and now that he was inside, he looked around. The wave of intimidation that he felt was overwhelming and he took a step closer to Craig as if someone would grab his ass if they passed him and he was too far from his boyfriend.

**Craig shrugs, not expecting Stan to take charge in this kind of situation anyways. He wanders a bit, until he sees a sign labeled 'restraint.'**

"**There?" he asks, leading Stan do it. The shelves are full of different things, but he doesn't really focus on any single one of them. "Pick something," he says, not really caring what Stan chooses to get. Personally, Craig liked the idea he'd had while Stan was being a bitch in the car, but he doesn't actually care what Stan picks. He's sure he can make any kink Stan has into something fun.**

Walking after Craig, he wondered why he immediately went to restraint. Sure, Stan liked it ...well, okay, that's probably why, but he could have at least wandered through another section so people didn't know one of them was a kinky bastard right off the bat.

With his eyes wandering over the things on the shelves, he started turning red again, and he eventually averted his eyes to the floor for a moment. With his head bowed slightly and only a short glance upwards, he grabbed a sling, hog tie restraints, a leather collar and leash, and the beginner bondage set. Then he shoved them at Craig, and immediately looked away, avoiding the other's eyes and possible judgmental look.

"**This is going to be… really expensive, Stan," he says "And this sling is one that straps to your wrists and like, holds your knees up," he says, looking over some of the things in his hands. "We really can't afford all this… um.." Craig says, looking through the items in his hands and trying to decide which would be best to keep. In all reality, they can probably only get one or two of these things.**

"I've got two hundred." Stan said quietly, but his eyes were now fixed on Craig, unmoving. "And if you make me put any of them back I'm going to put them all back and like...I don't know. Buy a whip or something. And I'm going to use it on you. So we're buying it."

**Craig raises both eyebrows, trying to decide whether or not Stan is serious. "Is this really what you want to spend $200 on?" he asks, looking over the packages in his hands again. After a few moments, he puts back the sling Stan had picked up and gets a different one, labeled 'hard rider.' "This is the one I was talking about in the car, by the way," he says, deciding that it's Stan's decision what he spends his money on. Craig will pitch in at least a little, maybe half. He shifts the load to one arm and takes Stan's hand back in his, making for the register.**

"Yeah." He replied plainly, as if Craig were asking a stupid question. When they finally were moving to the register, he averted his eyes the entire time, and instead focused on pulling out the money from his wallet and handing it to Craig. He could always give him back part of it later, he didn't care. Maybe it was best if Craig controlled his money...no, he wasn't going to give up the freedom of spending whatever the hell he wanted. No, it was his money. For now it was okay.

**Craig takes his money, having the same thoughts as Stan in that he can just give Stan his half later, or just pay for something else. …maybe even take Stan on another date or something. He sets their purchases on the counter and waits for them to get rung up, uncaring what the cashier thinks because he probably has more than this in his own fucking bedroom anyway. When he says the amount, Craig cringes internally but hands over the money anyway. Stan's decision, not Craig's. This isn't Craig's money.**

**Really, Craig shouldn't have that much of a problem with it, but he hardly ever buys anything, that's why he's got so much in savings. So spending this much at once is near unheard of.**

**After their shit is bagged, he leads Stan back out to the car, tosses the bags in the back seat, and gets in the driver's seat.**

He found it awkward to be holding hands with Craig at all in the store, but he went with it anyways. Climbing in the car, he got out his phone and promptly distracted himself with surfing the internet, tumblr, just anything that would keep his mind off the long and boring drive.

**Craig just goes with the silence, figuring it better off considering how the ride into Denver went. The ride seems longer this way, though, and seems to drag on forever. Maybe it's the anticipation of that they have in the back seat, seeming so far away.**

**When they pull back into town, Craig stops at his own house, not actually sure where Stan had intended on going when they bought the stuff. They don't have their own apartment yet, so they can't exactly be super loud.**

As soon as Craig turns off the car, Stan reached in the back seat to grab the bag and lifts it up - taking it up in the front seat carefully so he doesn't bump it over Craig's head. He climbed out of the car and shut the door, and then walked up to the door and waited for Craig to unlock it.

**Craig follows Stan closely up to his door, and unlocks it before heading inside and swiftly making his way up to his bedroom. He shuts the door behind them and not a second later he's got Stan trapped against it. Stan might have gotten off in the car, but Craig sure as fuck didn't, and he still wants it. He presses his body tight up against Stan's pinning him to the door with his own weight as he kisses Stan roughly. "So what do you want to use first?" he asks quietly, in between kisses.**

Pinned against the door, Stan looks at the other with a half-lidded gaze as he put his hands on Craig's hips, and then returned the feverish kissing as Craig administered it forcefully. "Whatever you feel like using," He managed to say for a moment, pulling away so he could speak, but it was a lot quieter then he had expected to say it so it came out in a slightly seductive whisper.

"**Well, I don't have bed posts, so that eliminates the kit you bought," he starts, trying to figure out exactly which piece they should use as he drops his head to kiss along Stan's neck. "And the hogtie seems like it would be more fun if we were fighting," he says, trying not to imagine having to wrestle the cuffs to Stan's limbs. He lets his hands work to slowly undo Stan's pants. "So I guess that leaves the hard rider, which seems fitting considering how eager you'd been earlier." He slips his hands into Stan's boxers, keeping one to the front to hold him in a loose fist, the other hand wandering to the back to grope Stan's ass.**

Stan stared at the other anxiously, but tilted his head back so Craig had an easier access to his neck as he left a trail of kisses down it. He made a small hum as the other mentioned the hogtie and fighting, which really only excited him again. Stupid Craig, mentioning things like that in the car...he was still holding a minor grudge because of Craig's lack of interest then, even if he was trying to make up for it now as he pinned him against his bedroom door. As he felt Craig's hands unbuttoning his pants and the light vibration against his hips of the zipper being undone, he bowed his head to watch as the other slipped his hands into his boxers, slipping his hand back to grope Stan. His body tensed as he reacted to the touch by digging his own fingertips into Craig's hips where his hands were resting.

"Uh.._ah_, okay, l-let's do that then."

**Craig slides his other hand around to Stan's ass as well so he could back up and drag Stan with him. He turns them and gives Stan a light push to fell back against his bed. "Strip," he says, already taking off his own shoes, then his pants, his shirt, his boxers. He thinks for a second before getting on the bed, though, and goes back for their abandoned shopping bag. He pulls out what they want and rips the packaging open, tossing it on the bed next to Stan. Not even a second later, he's back on top of Stan; kissing him again and running his hands over his body.**

As soon as he was tossed back onto the bed, he removed his pants and kicked them off the side of the bed, along with his boxers. He was mid-process of taking off his shirt when he heard Craig opening the box, and it made his heart skip a beat as he realized they were actually going to use the stuff from the store. Maybe before he was assuming Craig wouldn't want to, for some reason...He did sort of grab a lot just to see how far Craig would go. Stan really didn't think Craig wanted to use any of that. Throwing his shirt on the pillow, he leaned back on his arms as he looked towards the toy that had landed next to him. His mind wasn't allowed to wander too far though, because seconds later Craig was back on top of him, his hand running up his side. "C-Craig, stop."

He knew that would frustrate him, so he explained, though his words were quaking with emotion, "U-uh, the lube."

There was no way he was using that without at least a bottle back there.

**Craig backs off for a second to reach into his nightstand and pull out the bottle he keeps. He'll actually probably have to buy more soon; they've been using a lot of it. "I won't forget it ever again, I promise," he says, knowing that Stan might have just been worried that he'd forget.**

**He drops the bottle next to the sling and moves back down to kiss Stan again. He runs his hand back over Stan's torso and presses their pelvises together in a hard grind.**

"**You need to get on your hands and knees for me to be able to use this thing properly," he whispers, sliding a hand up to his own head. "And you can use this if you want it," he adds, taking off his hat.**

"Yeah...just making sure," Stan said offhandedly, his eyes narrowed as the other moved back into position, leaning down to kiss him again. With his hands weaving behind the other's back, he moved his hands to the other's thighs as he tried to push him closer to him as he ground their hips together. As soon as Craig pointed out that he needed to be on his hands and knees for him to use it, and then proceeded to remove the damn hat.

"Awww, goddamnit, do I have to," Stan complained automatically, thinking of how it felt weird when he bit down on the fabric of Craig's hat. It was the sensation equivalent to nails on a chalkboard for teeth, really. With a reluctant sigh, he reached up and tugged it out of Craig's hand, and then shoved it in his mouth as he pushed Craig off forcefully so he could kneel on his knees and hands. His heart raced as he did so, because he wasn't sure if shoving Craig was a good idea when he was turned on. Then again, any form of emotion Craig had was no longer a bad thing in the bedroom...even anger.

"**Well you don't have to, if you want my parents to hear how loud you moan," he says, watching Stan get on his hands and knees. His pupils dilate as he looks on, taking in the sight. God fucking damn, he can't help but to think Stan looks good like that; hat shoved in his mouth, ass in the air...**

**Craig goes for the lubricant and coats his fingers with it before positioning himself behind Stan. He pushes in his first finger, pressing deep, not bothering to give a warning because he figures it would be fairly obvious. He moves it, crooking it where he's learned Stan's prostate to be. He presses against it, massaging as he lets in the second.**

Grimacing as he felt Craig's finger enter, he tensed up and felt the damn hat sliding over his teeth. Ugh. That feeling. He should just spit the hat out like Craig did and give him a fucking hard time about it - as much as he loved wearing the hat and visibly seeing it, he didn't like eating it.

With his hands gripping the bed cover, he bowed his head as Craig's fingers roamed inside of him, feeling him over his sensitive spot. "_**Mmmmff**_..." He moaned, but found it intensified the feeling of the fabric on his teeth. In frustration, he spat the hat out on the sheet, wondering if Craig would notice if he just clenched his teeth together.

**Craig sees Stan spit the hat out and wonders if he'll actually be able to keep quiet on his own. He slips in the third finger, and goes for something he hasn't really done with Stan yet. He starts to pump his fingers, fingerfucking him as he opens Stan up more. He watches Stan intently, wondering how long he'll last without something to restrict his moans.**

"**Ughnn**," Stan said suddenly, surprised Craig was now essentially fucking him with his hand. Grinding his teeth together as he tried to keep quiet, he let a small gasp escape.

Irritated, he lifted his left leg and then kicked Craig hard on the stomach- intending to knock the other over and off the bed. It was mean, but he was really pissed, and he didn't want the hat in his mouth. Why didn't they buy a ball gag, anyways?

**Craig stumbles back from Stan, his hand slipping away from it's duties and he nearly falls off the bed. "Stan, what the fuck?" he asks, excessively annoyed that Stan just kicked him while he was trying to prepare him. "Is that your way of saying fuck off? Because I don't know how much I want to keep doing this now," he says, glaring. It's not like he'd done anything wrong, what the fuck.**

"I don't want to put the fucking hat in my mouth and you did that on fucking purpose to startle me," Stan growled irately, his teeth partially clenched as he spoke. He was still in position, but he kept his eyes on the bed instead of turning his head to look around at Craig.

"Just..keep going. _**Fuck**_." He kind of missed Craig now that he wasn't in him, and he wanted him to go back to what he was doing. Now that he knew the other could finger fuck...well, he could get over the hat grudge.

"**I wasn't trying to startle you, what the fuck, I was making you feel good," he says, a little offended that even at this point in their relationship Stan thinks Craig is out to get him. Regardless, he gets back up on his knees behind Stan, trying not to scowl as he asks, "So are you ready?" He goes for the bottle of lubricant, popping it back open and waiting for Stan's response.**

"Noooooo, I'm not ready, I'm just telling you to keep going for no reason at all." Stan said sarcastically as he put the top of his head down on the bed, no longer wanting to look up towards the wall or the bed. Not trying to startle him _his ass_, he totally wanted to startle him - that was why he didn't warn him before he did it. But then again, it was probably payback for what Stan did in the car...even though he thought it was unfair there too that Craig didn't at least look at him once.

"Okay, I'm sorry, just do something. I love you so fuck me."

"**You're being a real bitch today, you know that?" Craig asks, squeezing a generous amount of lube into his hand. "I was asking if you were fucking prepared enough because you realize this thing sitting next to you is called a **_**hard rider, **_**right?" he asks, slicking himself over before picking up the aforementioned hard rider. He winds it in front of Stan's hips and holds on to each end. He presses himself against Stan's entrance for a moment before actually pushing inside.**

"I'm sorry okay, I'm just pissed because you didn't look at me but I'm getting over it so just stop talking and...and yeah, I know that's a fucking hard rider, I can fucking read and I picked it out," Stan shot back at the other, his eyes closed in frustration. He heard Craig using the lubricant, but it really didn't change that he was talking way too much. He made a note to himself that he would have to talk to Craig about his habit of talking way too much during foreplay.

When Craig started wrapping the toy around his hips, he tensed up again. And he wasn't really prepared for him entering either - and a part of him kind of regretted for being so pissed at the other for warning. The warnings were kind of...sweet. But right now, Stan gripped the blanket, furrowing his brow as he locked his jaw together in order to minimize any sound.

**Craig pushes in slowly, until he's all the way in, and waits for a moment. He's not going to ask if Stan is okay, because Stan is being a huge bitch about everything, but he does give him time to adjust before starting to move. He starts a bit slowly, not pulling on the sling just yet. No, that's for after Craig gets really into it.**

**He gradually picks up his speed, hoping for Stan's sake that he's able to keep his damned mouth shut. As he goes on, he starts to pull back on the straps in his hands, tugging to meet each of his thrusts.**

Stan was able to keep his mouth shut for the first part- his teeth were clenched so hard he was sure he was going to break a tooth or two. But as soon as Craig started really going, he was shaking a bit as he grasped the covers tightly - his knuckles turning white as he bowed his head, inches from the surface. Then Craig started tightening the straps around his hands, pulling Stan into him quicker and harder than before- probably harder than Craig could manage by himself, even. Stan couldn't hold back a distorted cry, and he barely realized he had done it as he started breathing with the pace of Craig's thrusts. His moaning progressively got louder as he shook, feeling his knees near buckling.

**Craig curses in his head, knowing that his family is probably still awake downstairs. It's barely ten o'clock; there's no way they'd gone to bed yet. He can't bring himself to care that much though, when the sound is like music to his fucking ears. What's the worst his parents are going to do, anyway? He's eighteen; he can fuck as much as he wants to.**

**He's driven to thrust even harder by the encouragement, using the sling's aid to his advantage. He's damn near breathless at the friction around his dick, and he knows it won't be long before he reaches his end.**

"_Ahhhh _- **Craig**," Stan was a trembling mess, his body shaking as he shut his eyes tightly. His chest was heaving with every breath, and his hands hurt from clenching the sheets so tightly. He lost his control and he released on the sheets, giving an especially loud shout as he felt his legs and arms shaking underneath him.

**Not long after Stan, Craig comes as well, riding out his orgasm with a strangled groan. He releases the straps in his hands, having been gripping them far too tightly, and instead wraps his arms around Stan's middle as he lets himself fall to the side, holding Stan to his chest. He breathes heavily against the nape of Stan's neck, trying to steady it and get a hold on himself.**

Collapsing on the bed next to Craig, he laid on his side so Craig could cradle him in his arms. The oddly familiar feeling of emptiness was inside of him until it left, but he was sure Craig didn't care if his sheets were ruined by that too. With his breathing regulated after much trouble, he let out a deep exhale, and then reached down to put his hand on Craig's arm, stroking his skin with his thumb gently as he kept his eyes closed.

**Craig's breathing eventually calms, but his heart rate stays just a tiny bit fast. It always does when Stan is this close, and Craig thinks that might just be his love. The only two things he's thinking right now are how much he loves being with Stan and how much he would hate for someone to come knocking on his door to tell him to shut the fuck up. He knows they won't, because they'll just use what they heard as a means to rip on him later for, because they're dicks like that, but whatever. It's still a legitimate fear.**

It was quiet for a few minutes before Stan finally moaned, "That was so **loud**." It really was more of an observation than a critique of what they had been doing, because he didn't have to gnaw on Craig's hat and he kind of enjoyed that. But now he was mourning his reputation - because Craig's family had to have heard what just went down in his room. It was worse that they were in the attic, because all Stan could think of was how much that would echo through the house. Ruby would probably tell people they had sex-addicted raccoons in their attic at school now.

Rubbing Craig's arm still, he said apologetically, "I'm sorry...I should have shoved that fucking hat in my mouth."

"**Eh, they'll get over it," Craig says, trying to be dismissive about it. They probably won't say anything about it to Stan, just to Craig. Probably. Most likely. He can't blame Stan for not wanting the hat in his mouth; after all Craig had spit it out, too. And it'll only be another week or so until they get their own place, and then it really won't matter anymore. He presses a kiss to Stan's shoulder, wanting him to turn around but not knowing if he'll be able to. He's not sure exactly how hard it will be for Stan to move after that; Craig's never personally done that to someone, or had it done to him, obviously.**

"Yeah...ugh, eventually, when their ears stop ringing," Stan muttered bitterly, finally rolling over towards Craig. He was a little sore, but he wasn't really having any pain yet - the tingling from his nerves being stimulated was still numbing anything that might occur later. With a sigh, he put his head underneath Craig's chin and then closed his eyes, his arms pulled up to his chest as he snuggled in, nude.

"**We should probably move over to the pillows and get under the blanket instead of laying in this," he says quietly, beginning to shuffle them toward the pillows. Once they're laid down, he pulls the covers up over them and hugs Stan to his chest again, his chin resting in Stan's hair. "Good night, Stan."**

"Night, Craig," Stan mumbled as he curled up, a bit miffed he had to move. It wasn't too hard though, and it was a lot more comfortable being under the sheets.

"I love you."

"**I love you too," Craig mumbles, already slipping into sleep. That was damn tiring, and he wonders if his arms are going to hurt the next day.**


	37. 06 14 2012

**06.14.2012**

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **craig

**Stan Marsh: **craig, you there?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, I am, hey

**Stan Marsh: **something's wrong with mellow

**Stan Marsh: **she's not moving much and she like squeaks at me when I try to move her

**Craig Tucker: **Do you want to take her to the vet?

**Craig Tucker: **How long has she been pregnant now?

**Stan Marsh: **dude she's not even drinking

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **was I supposed to keep track?

**Craig Tucker: **Well if she's going to be giving birth that would be nice to know

**Craig Tucker: **But I don't think it's been long enough yet

**Craig Tucker: **Let's just take her in and see what's up

**Stan Marsh: **Are you coming over

**Stan Marsh: **omg someone online said don't move a pregnant guinea pig and I've been picking her up to brush her every day

**Stan Marsh: **fuck

**Craig Tucker: **If you want me to, yeah

**Craig Tucker: **And I think it'll be okay as long as you weren't squeezing her sides

**Craig Tucker: **The really squishy part

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **how can you TELL

**Stan Marsh: **there's so much hair

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know what's hair and what's baby guinea pig

**Craig Tucker: **It's pretty much all baby guinea pig

**Craig Tucker: **I've never had a pregnant guinea, though, so I'm not an expert or anything

**Craig Tucker: **We should just take her in

**Stan Marsh: **...oh my god

* * *

**Stan Marsh: ***phone call

**Craig Tucker: **-answers- Yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **There's a baby in the cage, can I touch it?

**Craig Tucker: **No, don't fucking touch it, I'm coming over

**Stan Marsh: **Oh my god but the paws and it's like walking around

**Stan Marsh: **How is it walking it wasn't there like five seconds ago

**Craig Tucker: **Stan. Do not touch it

**Stan Marsh: **Oh my god look at it it's so cute

**Stan Marsh: **But it's so cute and it's black

**Craig Tucker: **If you touch it, Mello will eat it. Don't.

**Stan Marsh: **...seriously

**Craig Tucker: **Yes. I'll be there in a few minutes

**Stan Marsh: **But I want to pick it up

**Craig Tucker: **No.

**Craig Tucker: **You need to just leave it for now

**Stan Marsh: **But it's looking at me and it has small nails and its fur is all ruffled oh my god

**Craig Tucker: **Stan, do not fucking touch it. Look away if you have to

**Stan Marsh: **No it's too cute to look away it's like a wormhole of cuteness, Craig

**Stan Marsh: **You can't look away!

**Stan Marsh: **I'm going to touch it

**Craig Tucker: **Stan. Calm the fuck down.

**Craig Tucker: **No.

**Stan Marsh: **Oh my god it came out of my guinea pig I can touch it okay

**Stan Marsh: **She SMELLS like me

**Craig Tucker: **No you can't

**Stan Marsh: **...Oh my god Craig this is the softest thing ever

**Craig Tucker: **God fucking damnit Stan

**Stan Marsh: **Mellow doesn't give a shit she's eating hay and OH MY GOD IT SNIFFED ME OH MY GOD.

**Stan Marsh: **I'm in love

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh... I'm almost there.

**Stan Marsh: ***Sounds of cooing in the background*

**Craig Tucker: **-hangs up-

* * *

**Craig keeps his phone in his hand after he hangs up; speed googling how to take care of pregnant guinea pigs. He actually doesn't really know much, considering Stripe is a boy guinea and Craig should have never **_**needed **_**to know about pregnant ones. He'd just told Stan what he assumed, so he should really learn a bit before he gets there.**

**By the time he gets there, he's researched most of what he needs to know, but it was mostly skim reading. He doesn't even knock before he opens the door, and makes his way up to Stan's room before he can notice if anyone's in the living room. When he opens Stan's door, he sees him sitting there with a black little ball of fuzz in his hands. "So I was wrong; you can touch it," he mutters, not liking having to admit that fact.**

**He shuts the door behind him and makes his way over to sit cross legged next to Stan. "Any more come out?" he asks, looking into the cage for signs of other life. He hopes he missed Mello eating the afterbirth because that would be fucking disgusting to watch. He looks up to Stan's face and it makes him melt a little to see how happy he looks.**

Stan was on the bed, petting the tiny baby in his hands with one finger when Craig entered. He had a goofy grin on his face as he cradled the baby guinea pig near his chest, but close to his face so he could see it up close. Looking back down at the baby, he cooed, "You're the cutest thing ever, yes you are..look, it's your other grandpa," He held the baby guinea pig with one hand right up to Craig's face, inches from his nose. The tiny baby guinea pig lifted its head to look at Craig, but was timid as it sniffed him.

Dropping his voice to a whisper as if the guinea pig couldn't hear, he said, "Craig...it's our _**baby**_. Look, I think it has your hair."

He couldn't keep the happiness out of his sarcasm so it didn't sound like his normal joking.

**Craig doesn't really know what to do at being called 'grandpa,' so he just sits there with an eyebrow raised, staring at the tiny black guinea. It's premature, so it's even smaller than it should be.**

**He gives a bit of a nervous laugh at Stan calling it their baby, not really knowing if Stan was joking or not. Calling it that would just seem… he doesn't know. Is it a bad thing? No, not really. Just… extremely progressive. They've only been together three weeks, and they have a **_**baby**_**. That just seems like a lot.**

**Regardless, it's cute as fuck, so he reaches out to take it, considering Stan had presented it to him. And it's **_**looking **_**at him. How can he not pick it up? He cradles it in his palm, and scratches lightly between its ears as it continues to stare up at him. It bends its head and noses at the heel of his hand, and he has to mite his lip to keep from saying anything about it.**

"**So… um…" he tries, unable to look up at Stan instead of the guinea pig. "Do you know what you want to name it yet?"**

"Soooooo cuteeeeee oh my **god.**" Stan cooed as he ignored Craig's comment and instead stared at the other as he took his turn with the guinea pig. His heart was skipping with joy as he nearly melted with the vision of Craig holding the cutest fuzzball ever.

Reaching over to pet its tiny head with his finger, he looked at Craig, inches from his face. Noticing he couldn't look at him and instead was focused on the guinea pig, a grin formed on his lips as he leaned in close to kiss Craig on the cheek. At the same time, he accidentally pushed a little bit too hard on the tiny baby's head, which made it start squeaking loudly- just tiny, short squeaks.

"Oh my god, and it's loud like me," He said before he could censor himself, and he quickly scratched the baby's head lightly and said, "I'm so sorry...poor baby..."

**Craig leans back over to give Stan a real kiss, instead of just on his cheek, pressing into him for a few short moments before pulling back and turning his attention back to the cavy in his hand. "Babies apparently give you selective hearing," he says, tearing his eyes up to bee Stan's instead of little beady ones. "What do you want to name it?"**

**He pauses for a second, lifting the guinea to his face to lift it and examine it. He'd also read something else, on his way to Stan's. It wheeks as he looks, until he sets it back in his hand. "Her," he corrects. "What do you want to name her?"**

"I don't know...Craig?" Stan suggested, knowing the other would probably comment on his lack of creativity. When he heard it was a female, he stared at the guinea pig blankly. Another girl? ...he could totally keep it with Mellow. _**Yesssssssssss**_. But the request for a name made him balk, and he couldn't figure out anything creative at all.

"Uh... ...Craiggy? I don't know."

He glanced at Craig somewhat nervously. Really, he thought he had more time to look for a name, so he kept putting it off. And putting it off. And putting it off. Soon, it was two weeks within the due date...and then today happened. With a frown, he pulled his hand away and stared at the baby. What did it look like?

"...All I think when I look at it is the word cute and that's the lamest name ever."

"**Why do you automatically name her after me?" Craig asks, giving Stan a raised brow. He gives it a moment of thought, trying to come up with a good name. He stares at her, with her short black hair, and she squeaks like she knows he's thinking about her.**

"**How about… um…" Craig continues to look at her, and think of all the things he and Stan have done; anything they've said, whatever. Something that means something without being cheesy. He's drawing a blank, though, so he looks back up to Stan, trying to find the answer in his face, his eyes.**

"Because...I love you?" Stan said lamely, knowing that it was mushy. Oh well, he could blame it on the guinea pig - she was just too damn cute, all his defenses were down. He stared at the guinea pig too, not realizing that Craig soon changed his gaze to look at him as he looked at the guinea pig. What could they name it? Stan was hardly creative - after Sparky, he named their dog Halftime because he turned on the television...and it was Halftime during a game. Mellow was the most creative he had gotten, and that was only because he had been baking and he came across a bag of marshmellows in the cupboard. He looked around the room, not able to find anything besides dirty clothes in the corner, his guitar, his television, and then a bunch of sports stuff. Craig probably wouldn't want to name the guinea pig after something sportsy, so he was trying to dig deeper.

That's when he realized he had laid out the walking dead season one on his dresser earlier. Looking down at the baby guinea pig, he said rather blandly, "...let's name it Zombie."

"**Stan, you're terrified of zombies," Craig says, giving him an incredulous look. The word sets his mid of on an inevitable thought train, and he soon lands on the word monster. It makes him think for a second, and he looks down at the guinea pig for a moment, making a few connections before looking back up at Stan. He remembers the night he brought Stan back from Starks, and he'd let Stan borrow his clothes. The song Stan had sung that night was Monster, and it was retardedly relevant to their lives. In a way, their whole relationship was kind of like a monster that they'd kept caged inside their whole lives, and it ripped them apart when they were forced together in the locker rooms. Even after that, they refused to admit they liked each other, and kept their feeling hidden away because they didn't want each other to see. It's stupid and cheesy and he's not even going to explain himself to Stan because it would just sound dumb, but he suggests it. "How about Monster?"**

"...uh, yeah, but you like zombies..." Stan muttered, his eyes falling on the baby creature in Craig's hand. He just wanted to hug Craig until he fell over, it was too cute. And that was embarrassing to think, even as feminine as Stan was used to being- he felt like he was wrapped in a warm, fuzzy blanket that had just been in the dryer. Craig was being awful quiet though, so Stan reached up and put a hand on his neck, toying with the hair poking out from underneath his blue hat. He tilted his head, trying to observe Craig's face, wondering what he was thinking. Goddamnit, he still couldn't tell. When the other finally spoke, he narrowed his eyes, and then looked back at the tiny black guinea. ...actually, Monster for something that cute was adorable.

"...Lil' Monster would be cuter, but okay, Monster," Stan finally said, and then wrapped his arms around Craig's neck, hugging him as the other held the guinea pig. He was careful not to bump Craig's hand, but the guinea pig started wheeking when it felt a bit of a sway.

"Oh my god Monster he's mine too shut it," He muttered crossly, but reached out with his head lying on Craig's shoulder to pet the guinea pig again.

**Craig catches Stan in his free arm, wrapping it around Stan's waist as he leans on Craig. "Stan, when you have kids, you have to **_**share**_** daddy," he teases, using Stan's words - his voice highly humored at Stan's petulant attitude towards Monster's jealousy. He wants to put her down so he can ruffle a hand through Stan's hair, petting him instead, but he doesn't have anywhere to put her. Something tells him if he puts her down, she'll get squished between their bodies because they have a habit of getting on top of each other every time they're in the same… state.**

Hearing Craig say 'share daddy', he averted his eyes from the direction of Craig, and then moved his arms from around Craig and pulled away gently as he picked up Monster and put her back in with Mellow. They squeaked a bit and then Monster huddled next to Mellow, almost hidden under her hair. He pet Mellow for a moment, and then turned and lazily ambled back towards the bed, climbing on it and then leaning heavily on Craig as he wrapped an arm back around his shoulders, putting his other hand on Craig's thigh.

"...we move too damn fast." He commented idly, wondering if Craig was thinking the same thing. Sharing a pet was sort of a big deal, especially when it took two of their pets to make it, and it was like...a baby. He thought about what Craig said, and wondered why he didn't say 'when we have kids'..but he assumed it was because Craig didn't want kids. Well, it didn't matter to Stan, if Craig didn't want them he could settle for these adorable guinea pigs.

"It's been three weeks and two days, and we're like... ...parents."

**Craig is both disappointed and relieved when Stan takes the guinea pig from him. He leans back when Stan comes back to him, letting Stan fall into his chest. Stan's hand rides a little too high up on his thigh for comfort as a result, but he's okay with that. "Yeah, well… we're unconventional in pretty much every way possible, so it only makes sense we'd have a mutual pet by now," he says, bringing a hand up to pet through Stan's hair. After all, they had sex before they were even together, exchanged I love yous within a week, decided to come in together before three weeks was up, and now they have a pet. There's also a million other things about them that have nothing to do with time that aren't exactly normal, like the fact they're both boys, that they fight so much, that they have so many kinks in bed, and so on. Everything with them is weird, but Craig likes it so that's okay.**

"Really," Stan glared at Craig's chest, knowing he couldn't see his eyes so it was safe to express himself through a gaze. With his lips pursed in a straight line, he thought about everything they had gone through. Truthfully, it felt like longer for him...like somehow they stretched out a month into years, and the calendar was just lying to him. But that just made him think that time stopped around Craig, which sounded really ...romantic. With that thought in his mind, he rubbed the other's thigh without really thinking about how high up it was, and then said, "I love you."

Hesitating, he added, "...but if we keep acting this sweet towards each other the hogtie is going to get dusty."

**Craig bites lightly on his own lip when Stan starts rubbing his thigh, and glances down at him when he speaks. He chuckles a bit at Stan's comment, and says, "I love you, too. It'll get its use one day; but maybe tonight we can… um…" he wants to say it, but it sounds too lovey to come out of Craig Tucker's mouth. He tries again. "Maybe tonight we can make love instead of fuck. There's a difference," he says, continuing to stroke his hand through Stan's hair to distract himself from the heat in his face. Leave it to fucking something like this to make Craig uncomfortable, out of all the shit they do. It's kind of true that they've never been soft about it; they were always rough about everything. Maybe it's something they should try.**

"..uh..." Stan was confused. If they had fucked every single time...and that wasn't making love...? What did that mean for their relationship? ...were they just sex-crazed? What was the difference between fucking and making love? He thought it was making love. Now he felt a sinking feeling, wondering if Craig didn't think the previous times meant anything...when they meant a lot to Stan. Especially when they had their firsts together.

"...does that mean...like, the times we did it before..." He concentrated on Craig's hand a moment, feeling it pressing into his scalp in a soothing way.

"...does that mean you just thought that was sex, because...uh...I thought that stuff was special, or something..."

"**No, that's not what I mean. But there's a difference between doing it slow, and taking the time to really, uh, **_**feel**_** each other; and just going at it as rough as possible because it's fun. You get close, and kiss a lot, and let your bodies rock together slowly. You make it **_**sweet**_**," he says, running his fingers up through Stan's hair before bringing them back and playing with it again. He actually kind of likes the thought, especially with the way they're laying right now.**

"I guess we can do that..." Stan said with a frown still on his lips, no longer concentrating on Craig's hand stroking his hair. He sort of understood what Craig was saying, but it made him feel like their previous experiences were unsatisfactory in some way if Craig indicated something was missing, like closeness. Beginning to stroke his thumb in circles on Craig's thigh again, he glanced down and then pulled back to look at Craig.

"So...how do you do that."

"**Hey…" Craig says, looking up at Stan, and bringing a hand to cup his cheek. "Why do you sound disappointed? If I'm feeling sweet, you should let me be sweet to you," he says, leaning up to press his lips to Stan's with a new kind of softness. He lets his thumb caress Stan's cheek, and he leans his hips into Stan's touch, pressing more into the hand on his thigh.**

**There's more he wants to say, because somehow Stan it upset about this, but he just wants to keep his lips moving with Stan's, touching his face. Shy should Stan be disappointed? He's the one that's done all that romantic stuff, like cooking and playing guitar… Stan should be happy.**

"Well...it's not that I'm disappointed, I'm just...I liked the rough, but I guess we can try something new? Sorry, I'm just.." He paused, wondering why he was bothered. Craig was being so damn cute. Damn him for normally being a stoic bastard; it would make this moment less sweet so he could actually figure out why he was having off feelings about 'lovemaking' instead of 'fucking'. Well, what did it matter that he just discovered what it was? It didn't matter, really. Either way, he was with Craig, regardless of what they did had a name.

He moved his hand further up Craig's thigh, and then hesitated. He moved away from Craig and grabbed his jacket off the floor near the door, and then hung it in a way that it blocked the guinea pig's view of his bed. "I am not scarring that baby." He said insistently as he walked back to Craig, climbing on the bed and pushing the other backwards so he was on his back and he was mounting him, sitting on his hips. Leaning over him, he pressed his lips against Craig's, and moved his hands to run through the other's hair - bumping his hat off his head and onto the bed. There wasn't much room on Stan's twin bed, but he had to work with it.

**Craig chuckles lightly at Stan's insistence that the guineas not be able to see, but allows Stan to push him when he returns. He leans into Stan's hands as they run through his hair, and moves his lips gently against Stan's. He rests his hands on Stan's hips before trailing his fingers upward, feeling Stan's skin beneath his shirt. He loves the feeling of Stan; his skin, his lips, his hair, his body against Craig's. His heartbeat in his chest.**

**He lets Stan's shirt fall back down his torso, even if it doesn't fall all the way, and pulls Stan against himself more by it. He wants to be pressed against Stan, to feel all of him. He can feel that fluttering in his gut, like he did back when he was still in denial about liking Stan, except now it's warmer. Now he knows it's love, instead of… whatever he thought it was.**

Bent forwards so he could nuzzle Craig's neck with the tip of his nose, he felt the other moving his hand up his shirt. At first, he thought he would remove it, but then he left it. Then he pulled him closer, their bodies touching. His own hands were pressed on the bed on either side of Craig's head, but he moved forwards to kiss Craig on the lips, moving one hand to run through his hair as he lowered himself to sit on his hips.

Straightening himself for a moment, he removed his shirt and then tossed it on the floor. Once it was off, he went back to kiss Craig again, a little harder as he pressed himself into him.

Really, he liked the slowness on some level, but it was just so different. He was used to being handled more roughly, so this was a foreign concept.

**Craig watches as Stan removes his shirt, sliding his own off quickly before Stan leans back down. He notices Stan pressing harder into him, and it makes him smile for a second before he smirks. "You know, we're probably actually incapable of doing this softly. We're too… what's the word… **_**passionate**_**," he says, his hands sliding from Stan's hips to grope his ass instead. "Maybe that's just how we are," he says, leaning his head up to give Stan another kiss. Everything they do will have at least some edge to it. The sweetest thing they've done is have Monster, and that wasn't even them, it was Mello and Stripe. He pushes Stan against himself with his hands, rocking their pelvises together in a slow grind.**

Stan bowed his head as the other took to grinding into him, and then frowned as he thought this was more like teasing then actually lovemaking. If this lovemaking thing was all teasing, then maybe he didn't like it. He continued to be gentle though, avoiding pulling on Craig's hair because he had said it was supposed to be 'soft'. He couldn't take it anymore after awhile though, and as he gazed into Craig's eyes for a moment, not moving, he said, "...so are you going to actually do anything, because if this is just all teasing, it's torture."

"**Stan, that's what foreplay **_**is**_**; it's just teasing and making you want the sex even more," Craig says, accentuating his words by bucking his hips up into Stan's. Then he has a sudden horrible thought, and it makes him slow in his actions. They're in **_**Stan's**_** house. The worst Craig got the next day from his family when Stan was being loud was a few sarcastic quips about his new girlfriend, to which he flipped them all the bird. But in Stan's house… he's not sure what will happen.**

"**Stan, I don't even think we can do this here," he says, the tight grip he'd had on Stan loosening a bit as he stops pressing their hips together. "What if your mom hears?"**

"If she hears, so what," Stan said as he moved back, sitting on Craig's hips. Why was he suddenly so freaked out? Stan thought he solved his issues with his mom - they spent that day together and Craig got her to agree with Stan moving out.

"...uh, do you not want to...?"

He paused, staring at the other as he heard footsteps up the stairs and then a door close.

"**I always want to; that's not even the issue. You think I'd so willingly leave **_**this**_** unattended?" he asks, rocking his hips against Stan once more with the word 'this' so that Stan can feel how hard he is. After a second, he continues, "The issue is that what will your mom do if she hears? Will she still let you move in with me? Will she **_**check on us**_**?" He's not sure what exactly Sharon would do, but if she fucking walked in on them in the middle of them fucking, he might have to kill her for interrupting.**

Blushing slightly at Craig pressing against him, he heard the door open again in the hallway outside his closed door. He was actually getting nervous, because he didn't know who that was - his mother usually didn't shut doors, and his father forgot to. Which meant it was probably Shelly, and if it was Shelly, he didn't want her listening.

Glancing over his shoulder, he heard footsteps down the hall to the bathroom and the door shut again. He turned his gaze back towards Craig, and then shrugged and said, "I don't think that's my mom, but...uh, I mean, she has to assume we'd be doing that anyways, so she said yes even after that...so..."

The door opened again from the bathroom and the footsteps approached Stan's door, and then the doorknob twisted. Stan froze, looking back over at his shoulder as Shelly peered in.

_"Hey Stan," She said before the door was all the way open. "I found your shirt in my pile of clo-"_

_She paused, staring at her shirtless brother and his boyfriend. Focusing on Craig for a moment, she studied his face before she looked at Stan, mumbled "Sorry", and shut the door._

"Fuck, Shelly, why didn't you fucking knock? Oh my god. Goddamnit..."

**Craig is about to say something more, but is interrupted by the door opening. He stares back at Shelly as she looks at him, not sure what to think of the girl now standing in Stan's door way. He's never really met Shelly, so laying under her brother with his hands on Stan's ass probably isn't the best first impression. Not that he thinks he cares, since Stan said that she's an abusive bitch; so he just stays still until she backs back out of the room and shuts the door.**

"**So… that was your sister," Craig says, pointing out the obvious because it further proves his earlier point. He just lays there under Stan, not quite willing to move. "Do you still want to do this?" he asks, knowing the answer is probably going to be no.**

"Yes, that was my sister, and no, I really don't want to do this here," He reached back to pull Craig's hands out of his pants, and then slid off the bed to stand.

_Shelly opened the door, not having walked off. "So are you gay?" She asked as she stared at Stan, and then looked back at Craig. It didn't sound mean, she delivered it as an average question. _

"Noooo, Shelly, I'm a not gay, I'm just doing this for fun. God, what do you think? Get out of my fucking room." Stan reached over to his pillow, grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, glaring at Shelly. "Get out, Shelly."

_"I'm not in your fucking room, Stan. Okay. But take your fucking shirt." She chucked the shirt at Stan, and he caught it, and hugged it to his chest. "Just make sure mom doesn't catch you, you know, the rule how she can only have sex under her roof. She's a hypocrite." _

"Why do you fucking care, Shelly. Get out of my room."

_Shelly glared pointedly at Stan, and then slammed the door shut. A second later, her door slammed shut too, and then it was quiet._

**Craig sighs and sits up after Stan's little altercation with his sister. "So now what?" is all he says, to break the silence that falls over the room after Shelly's door shuts. He looks up at Stan, holding the shirt to his chest, with a somewhat sympathetic look. That sucks, that Shelly walked in, for lots of reasons. One of them being that now Craig gets to sit there hard until it goes away; probably Stan too.**

Tossing the shirt on his bed, he sat down on the edge, irritated. He didn't understand why Shelly had to interrupt - she never came in his room anyways. Maybe she heard him with someone and wanted to know what he was doing. That was probably it. Stupid spying sister.

He glanced over to the cage, and realized his jacket was moving. "...what the?" He said as he got up, walking over quickly to the cage and then groaned as he realized Mellow was eating his sleeve. "Goddamnit, Mellow, bad," He said as he yanked it from her, and she looked at him and squeaked. He observed the damage to his coat - the lining was showing, she had torn up his left cuff. "Jesus fucking christ, can anything else go wrong." He walked with his jacket to sit on the bed next to Craig, sulking.

**Craig scoots to sit next to Stan, and wraps an arm around his shoulders. "It's okay Stan, you have no idea how many things of mine Stripe has ruined. She didn't do too much damage," he says, examining the sleeve of the jacket. He takes it and drops it on the floor next to them, not wanting Stan to think about it anymore. He takes Stan up in a hug and kisses the top of his head before laying his cheek on it. "This isn't the worst thing that's ever happened to us; it'll be fine," he says.**

He went limp in Craig's arms, leaning his full weight on the other as he held him. He was still turned on though, so it reminded him that Shelly had seen Craig's hands down his pants. And then asked if he was gay, which should have been a given, but he was thinking she was probably going to go tumblr that to all her friends.

"I think I'm going to take a nap or something," He said, snuggling up to Craig. "Can we move into the apartment tomorrow."

"**Well, I went and signed the lease papers yesterday, so… by next week we can move in. But speaking of the apartment, we need to talk about stuff like furniture. I have a few things that my grandma left me when she died, like a couch and a little dining room table, but we're going to need all that other shit that people have in their apartments, like… a vacuum cleaner and a toaster and bathroom towels and all that shit no one thinks about. Is there, um, a day you want to go with me and get some of that stuff?" he asks, holding Stan's limp body to his own. Somewhere in there, he'd brought a hand up to stroke through Stan's hair to sort of take away from his words. Buying shit like that together is going to me oddly… coupley. And even more progressive than anything else they've done. Craig is actually a little nervous about it, which is why he waited so long to bring it up.**

"Oh, _God._" Stan muttered under his breath, but he was pretty sure with how often he said it, it was audible enough for Craig to pick up on it. Heaving a sigh, he kept leaning into Craig as he thought about what he just said. Picking out stuff like that...homey stuff, that seemed too...committed? And Stan didn't have a problem with that, but he was beginning to think they'd be together forever, and that was a huge step.

"...why don't we just make a gift registry at Marcy's, and then tell people what we want for our wedding."

It was wonderfully sarcastic, but he added, "I guess whenever you feel like going out is good...I'm really not doing much this summer anyways."

**Craig tries not to physically freeze up when Stan actually uses the word wedding, even as a joke, because that's a fucking lot. A **_**lot**_**. Craig never even thought seriously about that with Tweek. There was that one time he gave Tweek that ring, sure, but that was just to prove a point. He tries to shake the thought before he can let it get to him. Marriage is a long way off, if it ever even happens. A long way off.**

"**Um… okay," he says, barely picking up Stan's last comment. "We need to get some of it before we move our stuff though. It's a two bedroom apartment, if we want to take both our beds, or whatever. I'm sure we'll have time to figure it out."**

"Sure, we can take both beds. And yeah, did you want to go on Saturday or something?" Stan mumbled, wondering why Craig paused for awhile. Narrowing his eyes and rolling them upwards to look at Craig's chin, but decided not to comment on it.

"Isn't this too serious? I mean, ...I don't care, but...maybe we're going too _fast_."

**Craig hesitates a minute with his response, not wanting to offend Stan in any way. "Yes, we are moving way to fast," he says, admitting it out loud for probably the first time. "And I've actually been worried about that ever since I let myself tell you I love you before we were even together for a week. But that's why my name is the only one on the lease papers. If anything… happens – if we somehow don't end up staying together because of whatever reason – you'll be able to go back home without consequence." He pauses for a moment, trying to think of the words he's using. "It's not that I'm counting on anything bad happening – I really don't want anything to happen – but statistics for young couples aren't exactly good. But I'm hopeful, so that's why I want to move it with you." He really fucking hopes that didn't sound bad, because he's never been good with voicing his concerns. He knows that no matter how great things seem right now, they might not always be this way, so they need a failsafe way to get out of it without anyone getting fucked over. Well, without Stan, Craig probably won't be able to afford living on his own so his credit will get fucked, but that's okay.**

"...you only put your name on the paper." Stan responded plainly, his voice extremely monotone. Shouldn't both of their names be on the paper- ...did he not trust Stan? Did he not expect them to last that long? He said he was hopeful - shouldn't he know if he's going to end up hating Stan in a week or two? With his mouth in a straight line, he glared at the wall for a few seconds, and then moved away from Craig, sitting up on his own with his arms in his lap. He had long ago lost the excitement connected to lovemaking, and now he was feeling ticked off instead.

"So I'm living in your apartment. .._**your**_ apartment."

"**No, Stan, **_**our**_** apartment. You weren't there to sign the papers. I can't sign your name for you," he says, physically hurt by the fact that Stan actually removed himself from Craig completely.**

**After a few moments, he continues. "And you've been doing… well, this," he motions with a hand, " a lot lately, and I don't know how much longer you're going to want to be around anyways. If you ever want to leave, you'll be able to. I'm not into trapping people in relationships."**

"I'm doing **this** because you keep acting like we're not permanent and you keep suggesting I'm going to leave," Stan shot back at Craig, barely giving any pause between their exchange. "I'm not going to fucking leave. You know what? If you have so much goddamn hope for us that you can even suggest something like I'm trapped in this relationship and that I'm going to leave, then maybe you should fucking leave. Because I'm fucking serious, I don't date people unless I actually want to, and I wouldn't stay if I didn't think there was a future in it. But if you can't see me in **your** apartment a year down the road and you're just going to put all your money in it and then say, 'oh, you just live there, it's not **our** home, it's **mine**' then fuck you, Craig. Just seriously, fuck you. I want to be a part of it too."

"**No, fuck **_**you**_** Stan. Do you realize how many times you've suggested that we might not be working out? And you're the one that won't be with me in public, so excuse the fuck out of me for thinking you might have second thoughts one day. Besides, you loved Wendy for six fucking years and jumped right to me. Who's to say someone better than me won't come along one day? There's any number of fucking things that could go wrong, Stan, and I did it that way for fucking your sake." He stops and finds his hat, pulling it tight over his head and turns away from Stan, fuming. Fucking everything Craig tries to do blows up in his face; why does he even try anymore? Maybe he should just let Stan fuck up and deal with the consequences like normal people instead of trying to prevent problems. That only fucking creates more.**

"**You think I'm the one that's going to fucking leave after all the shit I've done for you," he mutters, more just being pissy to himself instead of trying to continue speaking to Stan. "I wouldn't have even offered for you to live with me if I didn't want it to be our apartment."**

Stan sat still, looking at his hands as Craig spoke. He was feeling a little less pissed off, and a bit more worried now, realizing Craig was right. He said they might not be working out a lot, and then when Craig repeated it, Stan was pissed. With his eyes half drawn shut, he wrung his hands with one another, doing a motion that normally was calming when he was upset.

It was extremely hypocritical of him, and he knew this, and now regretted it as he heard how angry Craig sounded. Then he suggested Stan might find someone else - which made Stan feel sick, because he didn't want to think about that either.

"Sorry," He said lamely, in a quiet tone, looking at his hands still, letting them fall in his lap unmoving again. "I'm sorry.."

"**Yeah, I know you're sorry," Craig mutters, flopping onto his side on the bed. He really tries not to get pissed off when Stan is pissed off, because they'll just cause more problems with each other, but he can't help it sometimes. Stan gets pissed at him when he hasn't even done anything, and Craig's never been one to take an insult without a fight. Even if they're dating, he's still going to defend himself.**

Remaining quiet, Stan stared at his hands a little bit longer, and then looked over his shoulder at Craig. He pulled himself up on the bed, and then snuggled up behind him, hugging his back. He put his chin on Craig's shoulder, and then removed his hat so he could mess with his hair - massaging his fingers into the other's scalp in circular motions. Brushing his bangs from his eyes, he looked at Craig for a moment before he said, "It's impossible for someone better to come along, because there isn't anyone better than you."

**Craig starts to feel a little better with Stan's hands in his hair, but as soon as Stan speaks his heart sinks a bit. That's probably exactly what he thought about Wendy, too. That's what you always think when you're in a relationship, until someone better **_**does **_**come along. Not that Craig is insecure; he's pretty confident that Stan will stay with him and he'd really only said that to prove a point.**

"**Um, yeah," Craig says, focusing back on the fingers in his hair instead to relax himself again. "I love you, Stan," he sighs, defeated again. They have a lot of angry days.**

"I love you," He mumbled, laying back down on Craig's shoulder, his hand still in the other's now-messed up hair. He heard Shelly's door open again, but there weren't any footsteps accompanying it. What the hell. If she walked in, Stan mentally swore to himself he'd throw a pillow at her. Or a brick. Seconds later, he heard her bouncing down the steps, the stairs creaking as she went. Pressing his lips into Craig's shoulder, he combed his fingers through the other's hair again before he said, "Uh...Did you want to..."

What he didn't realize was that Shelly had gone back up the steps halfway, and she opened the door again.

_"Dad's home, you should probably keep it down so you don't get caught. Oh, and if you want a cover up, blast heavy metal and lock the door. If they come knocking you can say you didn't hear them." She paused for a moment, staring at her brother's back before she added, "Maybe next time you could introduce me to your new partner, instead of me finding out like this. You know, because you're my only sibling."_

"Fuck off, Shelly."

_She glared at him, and then shut the door and went back down the steps._

Stan laid there quietly for a few minutes, and then said, "...well I have heavy metal."

**Craig sighs again, not really caring either way anymore, especially considering Shelly just interrupted again. "If you want," he provides, actually developing a bit of a headache from getting so frustrated. They can't fight about the apartment when it's such a big step like this; that's not a good sign. Somehow, Craig still thinks they'll be okay, but he's not sure how. Though at the moment, he should be more concerned with Stan's request. Craig didn't exactly sound super interested, after all, but he's sure the second Stan climbed on top of him he'd be more enthusiastic. That's the kind of effect Stan has on him.**

Stan slid off the bed after Craig's unenthusiastic response, and walked over to his door and locked it. Then he picked up his book bag and put it in front of Mellow's cage, just so she couldn't see AND she couldn't eat it. Walking over to his stereo on his dresser, he took his ipod out of the top drawer and hooked it up to the speakers- then he looked through his songs. He hesitated on Metallica, but then spotted Nine Inch Nails a few titles below that. Selecting it and setting it to a moderately high volume - they could probably hear the bass through the floor, really, and not words - he walked back over to Craig, and then pulled him over so he was lying on his back on the bed. Settling himself on top of Craig, he realized after a few beats what song he had picked, and he averted his eyes with a crooked smile on his lips.

"Kind of obvious, goddamnit. Oh well. I listen to it sometimes so they shouldn't give a fuck."

The familiar tune of NIN's "Closer" was playing.

**Craig laughs a bit at Stan's smile, and runs his hands up Stan's arms. "You're so stupidly cute," he says, his own smile forming. He hopes Stan knows he meant stupid in the fact that it's stupid how cute Stan is, not that Stan is stupid or something.**

**He brings a hand up Stan's neck and into his hair to bring him down for a kiss.**

Stan descended, guided partly by Craig's hand and actually wanting to bend down to kiss the other. Tilting his head to meet the other's lips more comfortably, he ran his hands behind Craig's neck, trailing his fingernails lightly up the curve of his scalp and then to the back of his head as he moved from his lips to his neck. Kissing lightly downwards, he reached the point right above Craig's collar bone, and then nipped the skin there with his teeth lightly.

"I was being stupid," He muttered into Craig's shoulder, his breath warming the area because he was so close. "I'm really sorry."

**Craig continues to play lightly with Stan's hair as Stan kisses down his neck, and Craig turns his head to the side to give Stan better access. It's a slightly foreign concept, to have Stan be the one doing that. Sure, Stan bites him, but Craig is normally the one kissing all over Stan. "That's alright," Craig says, not really wanting to talk anymore. If they're going to have sex, they should just do it before they ruin it for themselves again.**

Stan reached one hand to undo his pants, but at the same time, he kept his other hand on Craig's hair - using his knees in order to keep himself above Craig, straddling him. Kissing Craig's shoulder, he undid his pants and then slipped them down a ways with his boxers, using the same hand. Stopping a moment, he looked Craig in the eyes and then frowned as he said, "...you in the mood, or...?" He hadn't really been doing anything, and Stan was worried he killed the mood completely. Even with Closer playing in the background, something was missing. Like Craig's involvement in the act - Stan felt like he was doing a one man show. ...and then he got an idea.

"...do you want me to ride you?"

**Craig's pulse lurches at the prospect of watching Stan ride him. "Yeah," he says, feeling his blood rush. "You should help me out of my pants, too." It's hard to hear over the music, but he's sure they won't be talking much anyway.**

**Then he wonders… If Stan's going to be doing all the work, does he still want Craig to prepare him, or… Craig bites his lip, trying not to think too much about it before it happens. Does Stan even have lubricant, anyway?**

Hearing Craig agree to his question, Stan's own heartbeat started skipping, and he looked around towards his nightstand. Leaning over, he pulled it open and took out a bottle of lubricant, and then didn't bother shutting it as he leaned back up and tossed it on the bed near Craig's head.

"Yeah, your pants...um..." He scooted downwards so he could unfasten Craig's jeans, and then started tugging them down, lifting his hips a bit so he could maneuver a bit more easily. Once he had moved Craig's boxers down a little to expose him, he moved off of Craig to pull his pants down and remove his shirt standing off to the side of the bed. God, having a twin was so annoying.

"Uh...so do I just...or do you want to..."

**Now that Stan's naked, Craig takes the time to look at him while he just stands there. Stan really does have a nice body; sports were good to him. Craig works out sometimes, sure, but not as intensively as Stan probably did. Or does.**

"**Do you just **_**what**_**?" he asks, knowing Stan is thinking the same thing he had been a few moments prior. He just wants to hear Stan say it. He pats his thighs for Stan to come back and straddle him again. He's got a smirk on his face, but it's not mean. It's more because this situation is both amusing and extremely arousing. He can feel his cock throbbing with all the blood that's being pumped into it.**

Putting a hand on his other arm, rubbing it self-consciously, he looked away for a moment, trying to figure out whether he should shove something in his mouth. 'Perfect Drug' was playing now, and it was loud, but he didn't know if he was louder. Deciding against it, he straddled Craig again, his legs on either side and the curve of his backside pressed against Craig, as he was sitting a ways up on him.

"Do you want me to ...uh...do myself?"

It seemed only logical, if he was doing all the work anyways...but he felt sort of stupid doing everything and watching Craig lay there.

**Craig catches his breath as Stan sits essentially **_**on **_**his dick. After a second, he looks up at Stan with that same glint in his eye. "You mean should you finger yourself?" he asks, unable to resist rocking his hips against Stan's once. "I think that would be hot," he says, smirking up at Stan because he knows it'll make Stan flush with embarrassment. He does have to admit though, honestly, that the thought of Stan leaning over him, falling to pieces at his own touch, is extremely fucking exciting.**

His face was turning red already at Craig's suggestion, and he was turning even more red after the other gyrated against him. He could feel Craig's member rubbing against him from his backside, so he was a little more than in a suggestible position for something like the other moving his hips. He moved to grab the lube from the bed, leaning forwards and putting a few inches between Craig and himself as he knelt above him. Once he covered one hand with lubricant, he tossed the bottle aside and put his non-lubed hand on the other side of Craig's head - his eyes closed as he put his hand back behind himself. It took him awhile to actually insert his fingers back there, because somehow it seemed abnormal to do this to oneself. He was tempted to pull out whenever he felt strong sensations even when he was expecting them, and it made him gasp as he tried to move two, then three fingers back. "...uh, ah..okay..are you ready." He opened his eyes, his chest moving up and down as he breathed heavily on top of Craig.

**Craig has to bite his lip to keep from saying anything as he lays there under Stan. Stan's face was such a red color, his eyes screwed shut, his breath coming in short pants, his body trembling just the slightest bit. He can feel the heat radiating off Stan's body, and he delights in each gasp Stan utters. It takes all of Craig's will power not to touch Stan, to interrupt his process, to throw him down and give him a real reason to gasp. By the time Stan speaks, Craig is barely containing himself. It's torture to sit and watch like this, so all too quickly he says, "**_**Fuck yes**_**." His cock is painfully hard and strained, and all he wants is to be inside Stan. The anticipation is killing him as he waits for Stan to start.**

He looked slightly worried as he heard Craig's response, and he decided to back up, lifting himself by a half kneeling, half straightening himself upwards position. Moving in reverse an inch or two, he looked down at Craig. On some level, this should have been demeaning, just doing all the work and having Craig watch like he was some sort of kink show; but for some reason, because it _was_ Craig it was okay.

With his legs slightly shaking, he put a hand on Craig's stomach, then lowered himself and held Craig's cock with his other hand. At first, it was difficult to position himself because he was so nervous. Working his way over Craig, he began impaling himself with the other, his body trembling, his eyes closed as he did so. He had been biting his lower lip as he did it, then moved to clenching his teeth, and finally let out a pained groan. By the time Craig was fully in him, he was nearly panting, and he opened his eyes to look at Craig, his hands now on Craig's sides.

**Craig hisses when he feels Stan's hand on him, lining him up with Stan's entrance. He holds himself back from moving as Stan slowly lowers on him. By the time Stan is fully seated on him, Craig is breathing heavily right along with Stan. He somehow senses to open his eyes and locks them with Stan's as the other looks back at him. He brings his hands up to Stan's thighs, massaging them lightly with his thumbs and the pads of his fingers in a soothing way. This is probably a bit overwhelming for Stan to have to do the work for once, so he wants to make sure Stan is actually okay. **

"Ughhh..Craig," He breathed, trying to convey how he was overwhelmed, but he took a moment to bend himself forwards a little, even though his body was already arched to accommodate Craig. With his eyes closed again, he pulled himself upwards and then slowly went back down again. His jaw was clenched, his eyes closed tightly - if he cried, he knew Craig would totally see it and there was no way he wanted that to happen, not right now.

He moved up and down, his body shaking. Forcing Craig into him every time with rapid succession, though still not as fast as he could be going- he breathed with every motion, his hands on Craig - digging into his sides. "Ah- ahhh.." He shook, his head bowing down, his bangs falling over his eyes as he tried to collect himself.

**Craig watches as Stan begins to actually ride him. He's only able to watch for a minute before he has to screw his own eyes shut. God. Fucking. Damn. If he continues to watch, he doesn't think he'll last long. He can feel Stan's nails in his sides, but he doesn't even care. His skin is hypersensitive so it even adds to his pleasure. He cracks his eyes back open, unable to resist, and he sees Stan quaking, and it just goes straight to Craig's dick. Stan feels that fucking good right now, and it's sort of because of Craig, even if Stan is the one moving, and it makes Craig glad that he can do this for Stan. Craig doesn't even know what to do with himself, he just feels fucking fantastic.**

"O-oh my god.." Stan was quaking on top of Craig, his eyes shut as he tried to go faster, but he was shaking so much that it was impossible for him to concentrate on anything but movement. And the movement felt so insanely intense that it was making him lose control of what he was doing altogether. He barely had a moment to reach over and grab his shirt, hanging from the side of the bed - barely - and he put it underneath him so he didn't release on Craig. He wasn't there yet, however - even though his body was slick with sweat, and his face red - he continued to reverse thrust the other inside of him.

**After several long minutes pass, Craig can't contain himself any longer. He has to do **_**something**_**. He's being too stimulated to not act. He doesn't want to thrust, for fear of startling Stan and knocking him over or something – that would be fucking terrible. So instead he brings a hand up from where he'd been gripping Stan's thighs and wraps it around Stan's dick. He starts to pump him raggedly, not able to think enough to match Stan's pace. He doesn't know how much longer he'll last, and he bites down hard on his lip to keep from groaning or otherwise vocalizing.**

"Ah- _ahhh_ - **ah**, oh my god.._**uhgn**_," Stan gasped, trying to concentrate - but the addition of Craig's hand had thrown him off, and he couldn't contain himself any longer. Between short groans of pleasure, and Craig's stroking, he finally went on the shirt that was settled on Craig's stomach. Shaking a little more violently now as he leaned back a little, his body effectively arching as he was immobilized for a moment after his release, clearly due to physical exhaustion; he tried picking up his speed again as he moaned, digging so hard into Craig's hips that he was sure he couldn't go any further without drawing blood. Now his bangs were sleek against his forehead, so his eyes were visible as they were firmly pressed shut, and his mouth agape as he vocalized himself.

**Craig feels Stan release, and it's not long before Craig does as well. He appreciates that Stan continued to move even after he came, surprised that Stan had the presence of mind to remember to do so. "Mm, Stan…" he manages as he comes. He lets his muscles relax into the mattress as he lays there, breathing deeply as he looks up at Stan's flushed face.**

As soon as Craig came, Stan stayed where he was, hunched over as he gripped the other's hips, letting himself breath finally before he lifted himself with much effort off of Craig. Falling to his side, but carefully not falling off the bed, he laid on his side with one arm draped over Craig's chest and his head against the other's shoulder, breathing erratically until he finally managed to calm himself. He grabbed the shirt that was on Craig, and with one arm folded it in half to cover what was already on it - and then he wiped himself and threw it on the floor. His arm returned to its place on Craig's chest, feeling his shoulder blade, then trailing down his muscles to settle on the other's abs. Stan's other arm was beneath his head, but in a way he could still reach up and comb his fingers through Craig's slightly dampened hair; obviously from profuse sweating during the act. Or maybe the sweat was Stan's from own palm - he didn't know. His skin felt like the room was the Antarctic, now that he wasn't moving and his slickened skin was cooling.

"I love you," He muttered, clearly spent from performing for Craig.

**Craig wraps the arm under Stan around his back and sighs as Stan touches him. "I love you too," he says, his breathing mostly returned to normal. He tries to work the covers out from under them and pulls them up over their bodies. "That was fun," he says, giving Stan a tired smirk before letting his eyes fall shut. After a moment, he notices that the music is still on. It had become background noise, barely noticeable, but no he notices and it's way too loud to sleep through. "Do you want me to go shut that off?" he asks.**

"Oh god, yeah." Stan said, as the music he realized was playing Rammstein - du hast. What a great song for fucking one's ex-enemy. He was momentarily bitter at the prospect that Craig would actually have to leave the bed, therefore leaving him exposed, waiting for his return - but he reluctantly moved his arm away so Craig could maneuver out from under the newly positioned covers. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and waited impatiently for the other to proceed.

**Craig gets up, and his legs almost feel numb as he makes his way over to the stereo. He quickly makes his way back to the bed and lays back in his original position, hugging Stan tight to his chest. He's on his back, though, and he's not sure if the position is weird for Stan so he lets him go, free to move wherever he wants. Craig doesn't care how they sleep, ever, as long as he's got Stan pressed up against him somehow.**

"Welcome back," He muttered as he snuggled up to Craig, wondering why the other suddenly moved his arm back after putting it where he wanted it. Deciding not to nitpick, he shrugged it off and put his head right under Craig's chin, tilted in a way so he could kiss the other's shoulder still as he laid there. Figuring maybe Craig wanted direction, he said, "Hug me," even though his mind was thinking of adding, 'bitch' to the end of that statement. Why, he didn't know. Maybe he really just wanted a hug after all that goddamn work.

**Craig smiles at Stan's demand and wraps his arms back around him. "Good night, Stan," he says quietly, now that the music is off. It's quiet, peaceful, and he doesn't doubt that he'll be asleep in no time.**

"Night, Craig," He said as he relished in the quiet. It was sort of annoying having the music on, but it made him feel less stressed that no one heard what they were doing over the rifts from the music. He drifted off after only a few minutes, his mind completely empty except for enjoying the feeling of completely, unconditionally loving the person he was snuggled up to right now.


	38. 06 16 2012

**06.16.2012**

* * *

**Craig Tucker: **Stan?

**Stan Marsh: **hey

**Craig Tucker: **So your friend Christophe doesn't want to go on this trip. He says he's fine and that you need to get your nose out of his ass, or something like that

**Craig Tucker: **We should just go and have fun; he'll be fine

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **...whatever

**Craig Tucker: **Are you okay? He can take care of himself; he's still alive isn't he?

**Craig Tucker: **He kills people for a living, for christ's sake

**Craig Tucker: **And we'll be fine, too

**Craig Tucker: **So it's all good

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Craig Tucker: **Ugh?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah.

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to talk about this right now, okay

**Craig Tucker: **When do you want to talk about it?

**Stan Marsh: **never

**Craig Tucker: **Well we kind of need to

**Craig Tucker: **If we're going

**Stan Marsh: **maybe I don't want to go on a trip with Token

**Craig Tucker: **Really? A free trip to France and you don't want to go?

**Craig Tucker: **What if I want you to go with me?

**Craig Tucker: **...you know this will be just about our one month

**Stan Marsh: **Token's going to be there

**Stan Marsh: **...you want our one month with token

**Craig Tucker: **Not necessarily token, but a cool trip would be fun

**Stan Marsh: **...with token

**Stan Marsh: **Token is paying for our one month

**Craig Tucker: **What's so bad about Token?

**Stan Marsh: **...nothing

**Craig Tucker: **Right..

**Stan Marsh: **that was a serious comment

**Stan Marsh: **there's nothing wrong with token

**Craig Tucker: **Okay

**Stan Marsh: **that's the problem

**Stan Marsh: **there's nothing fucking wrong with Token

**Stan Marsh: **there never is anything fucking wrong with token

**Craig Tucker: **I know, it's fucking annoying isn't it

**Craig Tucker: **But he's got my back

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I know

**Craig Tucker: **So that's a good thing

**Stan Marsh: **Great word choice

**Craig Tucker: **What?

**Stan Marsh: **nothing

**Craig Tucker: **You're really not in a good mood, are you

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to go

**Craig Tucker: **Do you want me to leave you the fuck alone? Because everything I'm saying is just pissing you off for apparently no reason

**Stan Marsh: **It's not for no reason

**Stan Marsh: **Have you slept with Token?

**Craig Tucker: **Well I didn't do anything so I'm not going to get bitched at for it

**Craig Tucker: **No

**Craig Tucker: **What?

**Stan Marsh: **You've never done anything with Token

**Craig Tucker: **No, where the fuck is this coming from?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **Even if I did, why would it matter if it was before I was with you? I don't even get why you're pissed off

**Craig Tucker: **This is from nowhere

**Stan Marsh: **...you did do something with Token then

**Stan Marsh: **I can't believe you did something with token and didn't tell me

**Craig Tucker: **No, I fucking didn't

**Craig Tucker: **Why would I lie about that?

**Craig Tucker: **This thing where you don't trust me needs to stop

**Stan Marsh: **I trust you

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah, I do

**Stan Marsh: **Token just makes me paranoid

**Craig Tucker: **Alright

**Stan Marsh: **now you're basically dismissing me

**Stan Marsh: **great

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not dismissing you

**Craig Tucker: **You just don't trust me

**Stan Marsh: **I do fucking trust you, god

**Stan Marsh: **seriously

**Stan Marsh: **I do

**Stan Marsh: **token is just

**Stan Marsh: **I don't fucking get token

**Stan Marsh: **He keeps involving himself in my life and I want him to stop

**Stan Marsh: **It's not right that he's hitting on Wendy

**Stan Marsh: **And he's talking too much to Kyle

**Stan Marsh: **and you're always going on about token this and token that and how wonderful Token is

**Stan Marsh: **why don't you just go marry fucking Token, if he's not taken by the rest of the town already

**Craig Tucker: **Stan, I know it hurts, but Wendy can talk to whoever the fuck she wants to. That's just the truth. She had to watch you walk off with me, didn't she? And I don't know about Kyle, but they're both smart as fuck, so they're probably just nerding out or something stupid. And Token is my _bro_. I have broments with my bros. I don't even talk about him at all, anyway. It's rare that I tell you about him because I know you don't fucking like him, even if he's important to me

**Craig Tucker: **Token isn't out to get you, I don't know why you think that

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **What is a broment

**Craig Tucker: **It's... a broment, I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **Good times with a bro?

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **I've seen a video on this

**Craig Tucker: **A video?

**Stan Marsh: **It was called bromance

**Stan Marsh: **You have a bromance with Token and I don't know if I can live with that because he's like..

**Stan Marsh: **Like seriously Craig

**Stan Marsh: **you never wanted me to top UNTIL Token was in the same house

**Stan Marsh: **He's like

**Stan Marsh: **some sort of..I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **sex god or something, everyone fucking adores him

**Craig Tucker: **Stan, what the fuck, I let you top because I was excited that you were safe from being murdered

**Craig Tucker: **Also because you wanted to

**Stan Marsh: **But it was in Token's house

**Craig Tucker: **So what?

**Craig Tucker: **Stan, don't get jealous of my friends. They're just my friends

**Stan Marsh: **just your friends

**Craig Tucker: **I don't get pissed when you're off with Kyle, and you've admitted to making out with him while drunk

**Stan Marsh: **Well I had my SBF5ever side with token like five times in the same week

**Stan Marsh: **so whatever

**Craig Tucker: **If anything, I should be the jealous asshole

**Stan Marsh: **well you're not

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, and you are

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to talk about this anymore

**Stan Marsh: **it's pissing me off

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **and so what if I've made out with Kyle

**Stan Marsh: **'it happened before we were together' you shouldn't care

**Craig Tucker: **Well you're getting pissed about me never having touched Token, yet you've done more than you should have with your fucking friend

**Craig Tucker: **So excuse me for not accepting the double standard

**Stan Marsh: **more than I should?

**Craig Tucker: **What the fuck right do you have to get pissed and accuse me of messing around with Token when you've messed around with Kyle?

**Stan Marsh: **I was fucking drunk

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah, well if I messed around with Token drunk, do you think that would be acceptable?

**Craig Tucker: **No, didn't think so

**Stan Marsh: **...ugh

**Craig Tucker: **I'm done with this conversation, so just tell me if you want to go on this stupid fucking trip to france or not

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Craig Tucker: **Fine.

**Stan Marsh: **There really isn't an incantation, is there

**Craig Tucker: **We're not talking about this anymore, I'm going to bed

**Stan Marsh: **so am I

**Stan Marsh: **and that means yes

**Stan Marsh: **there is no incantation

**Stan Marsh: **never was

**Craig Tucker: **No, it means he has a reason for not giving it to you

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Stan Marsh: **sure

**Stan Marsh: **because he hates me

**Stan Marsh: **and wants me to suffer

**Stan Marsh: **and he always wanted my ex

**Stan Marsh: **and my SBF

**Craig Tucker: **You really don't fucking trust anyone, do you? HE's not giving it to you for your own fucking protection, because you would use it, and it sells your soul to fucking Satan when used

**Stan Marsh: **Ugh

**Stan Marsh: **I trust people

**Stan Marsh: **but whatever

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, whatever, I'm going to bed now

**Craig Tucker: **Night

**Stan Marsh: **Don't leave me

**Craig Tucker: **You're pissed off at me and accusing me of things I didn't do and hating on one of my best friends; why should I stick around to hear it?

**Stan Marsh: **because I love you and I don't know how to feel about what token does so I just get pissed off instead.

**Craig Tucker: **Well Token isn't doing anything either, so whatever

**Stan Marsh: **I'm sorry

**Stan Marsh: **you didn't do anything

**Stan Marsh: **I just get really paranoid and jealous

**Stan Marsh: **I'm sorry

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, well thanks

**Stan Marsh: **thanks?

**Craig Tucker: **For apologizing, but I'm still going the fuck to bed

**Stan Marsh: **ok...

**Craig Tucker: **Good night

**Stan Marsh: **night..

**Craig Tucker: **Love you

**Stan Marsh: **don't sign off

**Craig Tucker: **Why

**Stan Marsh: **Because I just want you to be around

**Craig Tucker: **I'm around all the time

**Stan Marsh: **but I keep having nightmares that you die and I don't want you gone

**Craig Tucker: **Why would I die?

**Craig Tucker: **You just want me to stay online all night while you sleep?

**Stan Marsh: **maybe I won't sleep

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **I worry about it

**Craig Tucker: **Is that your way of saying you want me to come over? Because I'm fucking tired at this point

**Craig Tucker: **Why do you worry about it

**Craig Tucker: **There's no reason to

**Stan Marsh: **people die of accidents all the time

**Stan Marsh: **it's a valid concern

**Stan Marsh: **and yeah...you're pissed at me, you don't want to

**Craig Tucker: **Do you want me to?

**Stan Marsh: **but you're pissed

**Craig Tucker: **So?

**Stan Marsh: **you don't like seeing me when you're pissed

**Craig Tucker: **I always like seeing you, I'm just not going to be very happy

**Stan Marsh: **really?

**Craig Tucker: **Do you really need to ask? I love you, I always want to see you

**Craig Tucker: **You just have this ability to piss me off

**Stan Marsh: **I love you..

**Stan Marsh: **but you should get sleep there

**Stan Marsh: **I'll just end up pissing you off more I'm sure

**Craig Tucker: **Stan, fucking christ, if you want me there I'll come over

**Stan Marsh: **yeah I do

**Craig Tucker: **Then I'll be there soon


	39. 06 18 2012

**06.18.2012**

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **Craig?

**Craig Tucker: **Hey

**Craig Tucker: **What's up

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Stan Marsh: **stuff

**Craig Tucker: **Stuff?

**Stan Marsh: **craig, I have to tell you something and don't get pissed because it wasn't my fault and I did what I could

**Craig Tucker: **What?

**Stan Marsh: **Mellow died

**Stan Marsh: **the vet said it was pregnancy toxemia or something

**Craig Tucker: **She died?

**Craig Tucker: **Stan, why would I get mad?

**Craig Tucker: **Are you okay?

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **I'm feeding the baby with a syringe though so I can't really cry over this

**Stan Marsh: **I really feel bad, I saved her and then killed her with sex

**Craig Tucker: **you did not kill her, what the fuck

**Craig Tucker: **Shit happens, it's just not always good

**Stan Marsh: **It was pregnancy toxemia

**Stan Marsh: **I put her in with stripe

**Stan Marsh: **they went at it

**Stan Marsh: **she died after birth

**Stan Marsh: **I killed her with sex

**Craig Tucker: **Stan, that's not your fault she was sick

**Stan Marsh: **I should be happy she didn't die a virgin but it only makes me more upset because if she was a virgin she wouldn'tve died

**Stan Marsh: **monster is never having sex

**Stan Marsh: **she will die an old maid

**Stan Marsh: **in fact

**Stan Marsh: **if we ever have kids and they're female, now that I know this is possible

**Stan Marsh: **they're never having sex

**Craig Tucker: **She doesn't ever need to have sex, it's fine

**Stan Marsh: **we will have lesbians, craig

**Stan Marsh: **lesbians

**Stan Marsh: **it's the only safe option

**Craig Tucker: **Stan, don't freak out

**Craig Tucker: **it was an accident; she was sick

**Stan Marsh: **I shouldn't have held her

**Craig Tucker: **Stan

**Craig Tucker: **It's okay

**Craig Tucker: **You can't do anything about it

**Stan Marsh: **i killed my daughter

**Stan Marsh: **my baby is motherless.

**Stan Marsh: **can I please drink?

**Stan Marsh: **like please?

**Craig Tucker: **No stan

**Stan Marsh: **I'll come over

**Stan Marsh: **I have to take monster with me she eats like constantly

**Stan Marsh: **but please?

**Craig Tucker: **...if you come over, then maybe, because I can watch you. But you're not getting drunk off your ass, I swear to fucking god

**Craig Tucker: **If you abuse this, you're never drinking again because you're not going to die

**Stan Marsh: **oh my god I won't die

**Stan Marsh: **Seriously

**Craig Tucker: **You will

**Stan Marsh: **I rarely black out okay

**Craig Tucker: **Alcoholism is deadly

**Stan Marsh: **ugh

**Stan Marsh: **fine

**Stan Marsh: **I'm going to mope then

**Craig Tucker: **You can still come over

**Stan Marsh: **I had to bury my guinea pig today

**Craig Tucker: **You should come over

**Stan Marsh: **are you getting drunk too?

**Stan Marsh: **because one of us has to syringe the baby and I won't be able to do it

**Craig Tucker: **No, I won't because then I can't watch you

**Craig Tucker: **you're not getting drunk either, but you can get buzzed to take the edge off

**Craig Tucker: **or, you know what, we can smoke instead

**Stan Marsh: **after what happened last time I really don't want to do that again for awhile, okay

**Craig Tucker: **Well I'm not really sure why your sex drive spiked, you were probably just thinking about it too much before you smoked

**Craig Tucker: **but okay whatever

**Craig Tucker: **just come over so I can hold you and make you feel better

**Stan Marsh: **I am, just let me make this shit for monster

**Craig Tucker: **Okay

**Stan Marsh: **It's a mix of pellets and water

**Stan Marsh: **and peas

**Craig Tucker: **That's fine, do what you need to to take care of her

**Stan Marsh: **it's gross

**Stan Marsh: **if you're doing it make sure to warm it under hot water okay

**Stan Marsh: **not microwave

**Craig Tucker: **Alright; you mean the frozen vegetables?

**Stan Marsh: **...no

**Stan Marsh: **cooked vegetables, dude

**Stan Marsh: **Who gives a baby guinea pig frozen vegetables

**Stan Marsh: **The stuff is sludge pretty much you put it in a syringe, run it under warm water because it's going to cool and then you give it to her

**Craig Tucker: **Okay, well it's not like we'll have to go much longer in seperate homes so we can just take turns

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **uh, get that cage for her, okay?

**Stan Marsh: **I'll bring litter

**Stan Marsh: **I'm bringing her in a carrying case because I'm walking

**Craig Tucker: **Alright, I'll get that back out

**Stan Marsh: **starting over

**Craig Tucker: **Okay

* * *

After making sure Monster had a tiny washcloth over her inside the tiny carrying case, he walked out the door with his backpack on his shoulders - it contained clothes, cigarettes, his lighter, and Monster's bag of litter, along with her syringe and piggie formula. His jacket was on snug, and he had his hat on, pulled down right above his eyes. With a frown, he stalked through the darkness to Craig's house and then went inside, and walked up the steps to Craig's room grimly.

Once inside, he set down his backpack and then turned to look at Craig, holding Monster's carrying case. "Yeah...uh..oh. Um, hold her while I get her cage set up?"

"**Yeah, of course," Craig says, standing and taking Monster's carrier. "The cage is pretty mush set up already; right there," he says, pointing to it across the room from Stripe's cage. He sits on his bed and lets Monster out of the portable cage and takes her in hand. "So what do I do?" he asks, having never had to take care of one of the babies before.**

Stan pulled out the bedding litter from his backpack, and it was bright pink. He had bought colored bedding for Monster. Along with a little bit of hay, and a chew toy, he walked over to the cage and spred out the litter, then hooked up the toy and piled the hay in the corner.

"Uh, ...oh. You want to feed her now? I guess we could do that." Stan said, a bit watery eyed as he got up from his kneeling position in front of the cage, and walked over to his backpack, and pulled out the little container of sludge he had made before he came over. It was still sort of warm, so he put his finger in it to make sure it was okay - then wiped that off on his pants and reached for the syringe.

"You put the smushed up gunk in the syringe, and feed it to her. I was doing like...I don't know, three, and put vitamin C water in between each. They had calculations online but I couldn't figure out the math so I just went with how much she'd eat."

"**Um… okay," Craig says, following Stan's instruction. He starts to feed Monster and then looks up to Stan. "You know, when you're done setting up her cage, you should come sit next to me or something," he offers, wanting to be near Stan. He can't imagine how fucked up Stan is over this. If Stripe ever died… Stripe will never die. That's it. He can't. He just wants to be there for Stan any way he can.**

Stan watched with half-lidded eyes as Craig fed Monster, and even with his shitty mood looming like a dark cloud over his head - he felt warm fuzzies in the pit of his stomach. It was just too damn cute. Sighing, he moved over to where Craig was, but kept himself from leaning on the other even if he was tempted to. He didn't want him to accidentally shove the syringe too far into Monster's mouth. Stan did make sure their legs were touching though, and he let his hands drop limply on his knees as he watched the other intently.

**Craig feeds Monster silently for a few minutes, not sure what he can say or do. He can't say 'it'll be okay' because it won't; she's dead and they can't change that. He can't hug Stan or anything, because there's a baby guinea in his hands. So what is he supposed to do? He decides on changing the subject, to something not quite as heavy. Or so he hopes. "So how are things going with your mom? She said she was going to teach you about stuff, or something."**

"Yeah. Stuff I already knew," Really, she had taught him a lot he didn't know- but Stan didn't want to admit that he didn't know how to load the washer correctly, or that he forgot a lot of steps when using the dryer. Or that he was using the wrong settings for the dishwasher. Or that there were different cleaning products for stove tops. With a sigh, he pulled his knees up to his chest and put his chin on his knees, watching Monster.

"She taught me banking stuff, though. Uh..." He didn't want to admit that realizing he had five hundred dollars in his account made him want to go out and spend it, but he sure did want to brag to Craig about it.

"That's about it."

"**Oh, so it's going good? That's awesome, because we should be able to get moving soon," he says. Then he remembers that they still haven't gotten to shop for things they need. Maybe Stan doesn't want to come with him? "Um, was there a day you wanted to go shopping for stuff? You can look around in that storage, there," he says, gesturing to a door with a nod of his head, "and see what I already have, but it's just like… a couch and stuff."**

"Yeah, we should go shopping...tomorrow? I guess." Stan half-mumbled the words into his knees, and then he frowned as he stared at Monster. For a moment, he zoned out at Craig was finishing feeding the baby guinea pig. Then he turned his head to bury it in his knees, and his shoulders shook before he choked out a sob, along with, "I fucking killed her...and now Monster is motherless and I'm a fucking murdering bastard because I couldn't fucking sex a guinea pig and I didn't know and then she died and I tried moving her and she was all cold and Monster was fucking hiding next to her and it was so fucking depressing,** I hate myself**..."

**Craig is just about done feeding Monster, and after she takes the last few bits, he quickly transports her to her cage. He sits back on this bed and pulls Stan into his chest. "It's not your fault, Stan; you didn't know. You don't need to hate yourself. You made a baby guinea pig, and that's pretty fucking awesome, okay? You made life happen; don't get hung up on something else you couldn't control," he says, trying to speak softly, soothing, and petting Stan's hair. He really doesn't know what he can do, so all he knows is to keep Stan against him, and let Stan cry. Maybe that's all he needs to do is cry.**

"But it was so...and then she was like, not moving.." Stan protested weakly, letting Craig pull him into his chest, and he bowed his head slightly. He was leaning into Craig's hand, trying to show he appreciated the petting despite his objections to Craig's comfort. "Yeah and killed the guinea pig I tried saving...I'm fucking awful. I shouldn't have...ugh."

He remembered Craig's comment on 'do you even know how to take care of a guinea pig'. It seemed like a long time ago when he said it- Mellow seemed like a permenant party now, and she was gone. He was almost afraid when he told Craig that the other would hate him and want to break up with the guinea pig murderer.

His eyes welled up again, he felt warm tears trickling down his face.

"You were fucking right...I shouldn't have gotten a guinea pig."

"**No, Stan, you're fine," he assures again, continuing to pet his fingers through Stan's hair. His other hand rubs small, comforting circles in Stan's back, hoping the contact will ease his emotional pain. "You didn't know, and now you do. Now you can be the perfect pet owner for Monster, okay? You know everything you need to, now. It'll be okay. If anything, I didn't tell you enough when you first got her, so you're okay. It's okay," he says.**

"But..." Stan still tried protesting the comforting, but he was too tired. He had cried all day in his room, since Mellow died in the afternoon, right after lunchtime. Reaching up with a single hand, he gripped Craig's shirt and then turned his head so he could bury his face in it, sniffling a bit as he reached up with his other arm and draped it over Craig's shoulder so he could play with the back of his hair.

"If you die first, I'm going to commit suicide. Just so you know," he said darkly.

"**Stan, that's…" Craig starts, shocked to hear him say it. It's not what he'd been expecting. "No you fucking won't. Don't think that way. You'll stay alive and you'll fucking be happy, okay?" he says, his voice a bit aggressive all on its own. He continues Stroking Stan's hair though; his body language unchanging. It unnerves him that Stan just said that, but he hopes Stan didn't actually mean it. Hopes. There's no way he'd let Stan fucking kill himself, ever. **_**Ever**_**. "I'll come back and fucking haunt you and make sure you don't do anything fucking stupid."**

"I'm going to whether you haunt me or not. Like that's the worst comeback ever, you'll **haunt** me. So seeing you every day anyways will make me any less sad," Stan muttered angrily into Craig's shirt, still gripping him as he stroked his hair. For a moment he paid attention only to Craig's fingers stroking his hair, pressing against his skull; but then he stopped to look at the other, staring at him as he backed away from his chest to lock gazes with one another.

"I really love you."

**Craig doesn't respond at first, not really knowing what to say. When Stan pulls back, Craig automatically says, "I love you, too." He tries not to let it freak him out, because he knows Stan is in pain, so he just leans forward and presses a kiss to Stan's lips. "Just focus on taking care of Monster, okay?" he asks, the words a little mumbled against Stan's lips. That's the most important thing right now is making sure that Monster is healthy.**

He buried his head back in Craig's chest with his forehead pressed against him, his hand still on the back of Craig's neck. This time he actually toyed with the end of Craig's hair, and then stayed quiet awhile, thinking about something else. Well, what usually was his solution to sadness? ...getting pets. Mellow was right after he thought he wouldn't solve his issues with Craig and Wendy, and he was confused, so he was depressed. ...Halftime was after Sparky ran away. And really, he had always replaced his pets. ...so what really would happen if Craig died?

"...uh..." He said, his eyes a bit watery but he was no longer crying. "...Actually, if you died, I'd probably become an animal hoarder and I hate cleaning so please don't die."

Now he actually thought of the possibility. He'd probably go to the nearest rescue and adopt every dog and cat in that place, and then lay in the middle of the room snuggling a pile of puppies, crying into their fur every night. God. ...why was that so cute. No, he would rather have Craig. ...but Craig and a pile of puppies would be awesome.

"... ...Sorry, I zoned out, I'm thinking about puppies," He explained for his lack of a response for a couple minutes.

"**That's fine; puppies is better than death," Craig mutters, holding Stan lightly against himself. "Maybe tomorrow we can go volunteer at the shelter before we go shopping. Take the dogs on walks and get them exercised and stuff. Would you like that?" he asks, running his fingers through Stan's hair more. He presses his lips to the top of Stan's head in thought, trying to plan out their day for tomorrow.**

"Yeah...death sucks anyways, let's just not die." Stan mumbled, and then thought about the shelter. He hadn't really volunteered for awhile, and he missed seeing the animals. Some of them he even pretended were his once in awhile, but then they got adopted or put to sleep eventually. "I don't know...the shelter is pretty fucking depressing. Let's not. Can we just... ...uh...can I just watch you play video games tomorrow and lounge on your bed all day. Until we go shopping."

He was feeling a bit like a hermit right now; especially since they had to wait for their apartment. The wait was torture. But then again, he didn't want to clean, and he really ... ...well, maybe that was something he should have brought up.

"...uh,...if I cook, can you clean?"

"**Yeah, we can do whatever you want," Craig agrees, scratching the shelter off his mental to do list. "Uh, yeah, I can clean," he says after a moment, wondering where that came from. "I just assumed it would be a team effort," he says, not sure why Stan would bother bringing it up. "Are you super messy or something?" he asks.**

"...uh...what's your definition of super messy." Stan asked cautiously. This could totally be a make it or break it deal right here. Kyle was always disgusted with his cleanliness level (or lack thereof a cleanliness level), and he didn't really know why it bothered people. He kept the bathroom extremely neat by habit - how else would he find the right lotion for his hands, elbows, face - but then it came to his room...clothes was tossed all over, there were ancient artifacts probably under piles of decaying food and wrappers, and dead flies and other bug remains. His floor hadn't been vacuumed in three years until he cleaned it this year. And his bed? He never changed the sheets until he did something on them that he didn't want his mom to find.

"...I'm probably...uh...extremely fucking super messy, Craig."

"**As long as I don't end up some kind of permanent maid or something, I'm sure it will be fine. I'll just remind you to clean up after yourself and stuff, so you don't forget," he says. And then he remembers what Stan's room looked like before he cleaned it. "And I swear to God, do not ever let our room get that messy because I will sleep on the couch and you won't be allowed to come with me. I don't think I could sleep in that fire pit," he says. It's really more of just a warning – he'd probably still let Stan sleep on the couch with him – but there's no way in fuck he'd sleep in that hell hole.**

Stan sulked as he heard Craig describe the previous state of his room as a 'fire pit'. Sure, he didn't clean all that often, and sure, it smelled strange in there sometimes, but it didn't make it a fire pit. He knew where stuff was. ...sort of. And he could walk in there. ...sort of. Okay, it was a fire hazard on multiple levels- but Craig could have been nicer. Feeling like this was some sort of threat, he reluctantly said, "Fine, I'll clean up after myself," as if Craig had asked him to dunk his own head in a dirty toilet bowl. He leaned back again, and gave Craig a short kiss on the lips before he stood up, stretched, and walked over to Craig's bed and fell on it with his arms stretched out to either side; effectively face-platting it. It smelled strongly of Craig and he secretly enjoyed breathing in, even though he'd eventually have to turn his head or he'd suffocate.

"I want to go to sleep." He stated, his words muffled. He was hoping that Craig took this as 'I'm going to hug him as he falls asleep' and not as 'stay away'.

**Craig huddles into the bed next to Stan after shutting the light off, and takes him into this arms. "Good night, then, Stan. We can play video games and buy a toaster and stuff tomorrow, and I love you, okay?" he says, his thoughts not really forming together well. The shock of Mello's death just hit him, and he feels exhaustion as a way to block out the deep sadness that threatens to settle in his bones. It's not that he wasn't sad before; he'd just been too concerned with Stan to be concerned with the guinea pig. "Good night," he mutters again, hugging Stan tight to his chest.**

Stan rolled over so he was nestled snuggly into Craig's form, his back slightly pressed against the other as he took one of Craig's hands in his and squeezed it. With a heavy sigh, he responded quietly, "I love you too," and then closed his eyes and dozed off. About halfway through the night, he jumped awake, and hit Craig in the face accidentally with his arm as he tried to sit up in a hurry. Realizing it was a nightmare, he tried to breath a little less quickly, and then laid back down, hoping Craig didn't notice. ...which he probably did, considering he slapped him one.

**Craig wakes with a start when Stan hits him, and he gives him a funny look, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "Stan, what the Hell? You okay?" he asks, his voice laced with sleep and a bit scratchy. It takes his eyes a second to adjust, and for a moment all he sees is black, before he sees Stan sitting up next to him. He offers a hand, not sure what Stan wants or why Stan just hit him across the head. "What did I do?" he asks, wondering if he'd done something awkward in his sleep. Oh God, what if he got sleep wood? …but why would Stan hit him for that? He stares at Stan, sitting up on his elbow, blinking a few times to try and get his eyes to adjust better.**

From his now laying down position, he felt Craig's hand brush by his arm, and he looked over his shoulder at the other as he perched near him. "It's nothing," Stan responded groggily, his eyes closed again. "Just a nightmare about shit I don't need to be thinking about. Like...demon shit. It happens a lot, just ignore it."

"**Oh," Craig murmurs, not realizing that Stan had been **_**that**_** scarred by Damien. He settles back into his spot, not wanting to press Stan any further and make the issue worse. He **_**does**_** hold Stan a lot tighter, though. Stan needs to know that Damien won't hurt him anymore, and that Craig is there for him. He always will be there for him, and Stan doesn't need to be scared anymore. He buries his nose in the back of Stan's hair and kisses him quietly. "Let me know if you want to talk more, okay? I love you," he says into the mass of black locks, letting his eyes slip shut again. He squeezes Stan once before letting his arms go back to the way they were.**

"Mmmm, yeah..." Stan muttered, enjoying the tingling feeling he was getting from Craig nosing the delicate area of the back of his neck. With a smile on his face, he put his hand back on Craig's and then went back to sleep a bit more soundlessly.


	40. 06 19 2012

**06.19.2012**

* * *

Sitting in the car on the way back from the outlets, Stan had his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes turned towards the window. It was almost eight, and they had taken almost all day just picking up stuff. He had wanted to spend more, but he didn't want Craig to go broke. Looking down at the strap of his black messenger bag, which he was carrying his iphone and something else in; he mused out loud,

"You know...I do have inheritance money. We could use that."

"**It's fine," Craig says, waving Stan off dismissively as he takes an exit on their way back into town. He'd spent well over $3,000 dollars today, but Stan doesn't need to know that. It's a damn good thing that Craig hardly ever buys anything, because he has well more than that in savings. "Just relax about it."**

"But I wanted to contribute. I have money, you know." Granted, most of it was in savings accounts so he couldn't spend it, but Craig didn't know that. Stan worked for his cash - he hadn't really been doing it lately...but he did try. With a frown, he looked at Craig, and then back down at his bag.

"I have a gift for you in here." He said, and then started unfastening the clasps on the messenger bag. "I got it online."

"**Relax, seriously, it's okay. You can help pay with bills when we start getting those, if that'll make you feel better," he says. He's actually pretty sure he'll need the help, anyway. "Yeah? What did you get?" he asks, wondering when Stan had had time to order something, or get to his mailbox, without Craig noticing all day.**

Once the clasps on the bag were unhinged, he opened it up and pulled out a 12" metal sign that said 'CERTIFIED ZOMBIE KILLER' [www dot amazon dot com/Metal-Tin-Sign-Certified-Zombie/dp/B006KZCXWC/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1339015660&sr=8-1]. He held it out for a moment and then shoved it back in his bag. "I got it like a week ago for the apartment but I wasn't sure if you wanted me there so I didn't show it to you until now...uh."

It wasn't the first time he had mentioned he wasn't sure if Craig wanted him there, but he still was uneasy about it. He didn't want Craig to throw him out - that was actually something he was worried his parents might do with how often he got into trouble.

**Craig glances at the sign before back at the road. "Not that I'm ungrateful, but do you just but anything you want on a whim?" he asks. He tries not to make it sound accusing, but it's something that needs to be said if Stan might have a problem. After all, Stan had pointed out plenty of things they didn't actually need while in shops today, and it sort of made Craig wonder. He wants to tell Stan that he can't just buy stuff, that he needs to be smart with his money, but he's not sure if that would be out of line or not. Well… they're planning on staying together for quite a long time, right? Maybe it **_**is**_** his place to say something. Though he's not quite sure how.**

"...I buy stuff when it reminds me of you." He said a little dejectedly, his eyes falling on the dashboard. Oh god, here it was. The 'you spend too much on useless stuff' conversation - Wendy had it with him, Kyle had it with him, both of his parents (surprisingly) had it with him - Shelly had mentioned it to him...he was pretty sure Kenny might have even said it once, but he wasn't sure.

"I don't spend that much..." Stan said quietly, and then looked away towards the window. Maybe if he looked upset enough and stared out the window Craig would drop the subject.

**Craig just watches the road, trying to decide what to say. Eventually he decided that a simple, "Okay," is good enough. He drives in relative silence for the rest of the way, paying extra attention to the road around him because he can't see through his car. He **_**really**_** wishes that Stan still had his truck, because all this shit jammed in Craig's car is pretty damned hazardous to his vision.**

Stan sat there for a few minutes, watching evergreens fly by his window as they moved along. His lips were pursed tightly together and his brow was furrowed, because he was thinking about his spending habits. How much had he spent this year alone, anyways? He must have a lot of debt - he bought all that stuff for Mellow...and even more for Monster. Like, he wasn't even sure how much that amount went up to when he was let loose on Amazon the day after Monster was born. He had such a daddy high that he was pretty sure he spent nearly 400 dollars on new beds, cute pink guinea pig stuff, toys...

With a sigh, he said, "Okay, fine. I'm a reckless spender. I spend money the minute I have it. I'm probably like two thousand dollars in debt, and I've got stuff in savings but that's for college, okay. I just don't get why it's a bad thing, money is there to use."

**Craig is a bit surprised when Stan continues the topic after Craig had pretty much dropped it, but he continues with it. "Well, yes, money is there to use, but you need to think about what's most important to use it **_**on**_**. Like… would you rather have that candy bar and a Monster every time you go to Walmart or the silverware we just bought. I'm not going to give you a lecture or something, but if you're worried about it, I can keep tabs on your money or something," he offers. He'd rather keep track of Stan's banking than end up with them both in debt one day. Especially if Stan already has that much debt… That's not good.**

"Oh my god. You sound like my mother." Stan commented sourly, his eyes narrowing as he rolled them not-so-discretely. "I can do my own banking, okay. I'm good. Really. I had a lot more debt than that like two years ago when I figured out how to use my parents credit cards online. And I worked overtime to pay that off, and then I got my own like ...I don't know, three months ago? It's connected to my parent's account but it's mine."

He inwardly hoped Craig didn't connect 'I'm 2000 dollars in debt' to 'I just got my card three months ago'.

Shifting uneasily in his seat, he looked out the window again, his heart sinking. Was Craig going to realize he was too much trouble to stay involved with? He was just waiting for it - he had a lot of issues, he was surprised even Kyle stuck around as his friend as long as he did.

**Craig does make the connection, and just sighs at the fact that Stan had compared him to his mother. "I said I wasn't going to lecture you, fucking Christ, I was just offering. As long as you know what you're doing," he says. He looks over at Stan and notices the distressed look on his face. "It's okay Stan; everyone has things they need to work on."**

"Yeah, well not everyone is an alcoholic and a hoarder, too," Stan said with a grimace on his face, and glanced over, realizing Craig had looked at him. He frowned and looked towards the window, giving the other the back of his head to look at. It was embarrassing to admit he had a lot of personal faults, and some he would never admit - like his tendency towards being depressed over life in general.  
"I'm sorry...I know you're not going to lecture me but everyone else has so I sort of expected it. Like you have no idea how often Wendy brought it up every time I bought her jewelry. And Kyle brought it up, and everyone else brought it up...and that's what my mom and me fight about the most. That's why I've worked since I was like fifteen. Before it was that ice cream place during the summer and a paper route, and then I got the job at the movie theater. But I really don't want you having to watch my money, that's like...I don't know."

He wanted to say 'overbearing and creepy', but he didn't want to piss Craig off. If Craig watched what he spent...god, he would know everything Stan bought, right down to the porn magazines.

"**Well I'm not any of those people; you should know that by now," Craig says, a little off put that Stan keeps comparing him to people like Wendy and Kyle, but he tries not to let it get to him. It's inevitable, right? "And okay, so you might have more to work on than others; so fucking what? I still love you," he says, hoping to steer Stan away from the borderline depressing topic of choice and into the fact that they're finally going to have some free privacy in the form of their own home. "We'll be just fine, you'll see."**

Still mulling over the topic despite Craig's obvious attempt to evade discussing it further, he frowned. Now that it was almost night, he could see his reflection on the glass a little bit better so he could see how depressed he appeared.

"I love you too," He said finally, sighing as he turned forwards again. "So what are we going to do tonight? ...we have no where to put this stuff."

"**Well," Craig starts, actually not sure about the question, though he'd been thinking about it. "We could either just leave it all in the car, or we could haul it all up to my room and put it in that storage closet. But that seems dumb, considering tomorrow is when they're giving us the keys," he says. He's not sure if he'd actually told Stan the date they'd be given keys, but yes. Tomorrow is the day they will officially have the keys to their own apartment.**

"Leave it in the car then, jesus christ, I don't want to carry all that up if we're just going to carry it back down again tomorrow," Stan said as he leaned his head against the glass, feeling it vibrate slightly as he sighed. They were still around twenty minutes away from South Park.

"I'm bored, Craig."

**Craig doesn't quite know how to respond to Stan telling him that he's bored. What is Craig supposed to do, give him a coloring book? "Um… is there something you want?" he asks. Really, are they going to play I Spy? How is Craig supposed to remedy Stan's boredom while in a car?**

Stan thought about things he could 'want' in the car. "Well, I could give you head while you're driving. If you want." He said, though it sounded sarcastic and he was still leaning against the glass on the window. He was pretty sure Craig would tell him no - there was an occasional car on the road this late, and Craig had yelled at him before for trying, so..

"But you're going to say no, so whatever."

"**Stan, if you were **_**that**_** determined to give me head, there's no way I could refuse. It'd be pretty damned well fucking distracting though, so it'll probably take us longer to get home if I slow down," he says. He doesn't think it's too good an idea, but Stan's had a hard week, and if what he really wants is to suck his boyfriend's dick, then by all means, Craig will let him. He lets off the accelerator, letting the car slowly drop from his 65 as he waits for Stan's response. When the car hits about 53, he switches on the cruise control, knowing that if Stan follows through, there's no way Craig is going to keep his foot steady.**

Noticing that the car was actually slowly down, Stan's left eyebrow rose and he gave Craig a peculiar look. Was he actually adjusting the speed of the car so he could - yes, he saw him switch on cruise control. So he was serious?

He put his hands on the arm rests on either side of him, and then scooted back in his chair to sit up straight.

"Wait, you're actually - you want me to do that while you're driving? Like now? You're serious."

"**If you really haven't noticed, I have a hard time telling you no, and if this is what you really want right now, I'm not going to deprive you of that. It's not like I hate it or something," he says, not thinking he'd have to explain himself for accepting offered road head. "If you don't want to, then don't, but if you do, then do it," he says. He wouldn't mind if Stan backed out, since Craig probably should have said no anyway, but he can't help feeling his cock twitch at the thought of having Stan's lips wrapped around him once again.**

Stan stared at Craig and then looked back at the road. Okay, so there weren't that many cars, and it wasn't like rush hour traffic anyways. Slowly he reached down and unbuckled himself, but kept his hand on the buckle and the seatbelt, hesitating.

"...Are you sure? Because I can wait until the car stops."

Really, he didn't want to - but the thought of how jumpy he was with driving came to mind, and the idea of dying in a car crash with his mouth on Craig's dick just wasn't the way he wanted to be found.

"**If you're asking for my sake, then I think I'll be okay. The road isn't too busy, and it's pretty much a straight shot the rest of the highway. But if you're asking this many times because you don't want to do it, then just tell me you don't want to do it," he says. He could go either way, and he's not sure why Stan is so hesitant now when he's the one that started this conversation in the first place.**

"No, I want to do it, that's why I took my seatbelt off." Stan explained, but he still was frozen in a mid-seatbelt removal position, and he hadn't let it snap back in the mechanism behind the seat yet.  
"I just don't want to do something and then you tell me to stop because it'll piss me off. Like...what if a deer ran out in the road. Like that night when I flipped my truck. I mean, it's not really safe...but I want to, it's just not safe. ...and...well..."

Before he could think of any other way to say it, he said, "Well, if like we hit someone, and I'm down there, there's not a lot of time to back off and I don't want to bite your dick off, Craig."

"**Stan, look around," Craig says, motioning to the empty fields on either side of the road. "Who would I hit? There aren't even any trees or bushes; I'd see a deer a mile away." He's not sure why he's pressing Stan onward if he's so nervous about it. Maybe it's because Stan said he wanted to. Maybe it's because Craig can feel himself getting hard just thinking about it. Who knows.**

Letting the seatbelt snap back, he glanced out the window again, just to make sure there weren't any shining deer eyes in the darkness. Somehow, he was feeling extra paranoid that one might prance out of no where and end up killing the both of them mid-blow job. Maybe it was because it wasn't more than a month since his accident, and he really thought he might have died after that if he hadn't had help. Either way, he was jumpy.

Once he was sure there wasn't any wildlife plotting to take them out, he leaned over so he was just over the seat divider. He pushed up the arm rests and then put his hand on Craig's pants, but accidentally put it a little lower then he thought when he originally tried aiming for the other's pantline.

"...dude, are you already hard? What the hell. Seriously Craig, if you want me on your dick, you can just say it, you don't always have to do what I want. It's not like I'm going to say no. Unless I'm like, violently ill, then I might say no. But really."

**Craig bites his lip at the touch and gives half of a laugh. "How could I **_**not**_** be hard while I'm sitting here thinking about your mouth on my dick?" he asks, as if the answer is obvious. He's already near wanting to squirm in his seat with his anticipation, but he doesn't because he has more self control than that.**

"Yeah, I guess that's a good point." Stan said after a moment, and his hand wandered back up to Craig's pantline. For a moment, he thought he might have gotten it - but then when he went to pull down the zipper, the damn button was still in the way. Fiddling with it some more, at the awkward angle of unfastening the other from the side - he still couldn't get Craig's pants unbuttoned. "Oh my god, what the fuck are you wearing, the Hulk's pants," He started tugging on the one side of Craig's pants, to see if he could get it undone that way, but the button still stubbornly stayed where it was. He leaned more over the seat, now almost flat on his stomach as he tried reaching over with both hands to undo Craig's jeans.

Instead of having success, he fumbled the button again and then said, "Okay, fuck you, button. Get the fuck undone," He let out a short frustrated groan as he roughly pulled at the contraption between him and Craig's cock, getting to the point where he might have just been manhandling the other through the material because he was getting rough. His face was red because he was embarrassed - he never had an issue with Craig's goddamn pants before, it must have been this angle he was sitting at.

**Instead of asking if Stan needs help, because he's probably not proud of the fact he can't do it himself, Craig just reaches a hand down and pops his own button open. He doesn't know how much longer he could have withstood Stan's groping without having his mouth on him. "Watch out," he warns, reaching down further, carefully, for a lever beneath his seat. He lets his seat move backward a bit, since he's not touching the pedal at the moment anyway, to give Stan more room. He makes sure to keep it safe, though, and keeps his foot near the break if need be.**

"Ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh." Stan grumbled in his frustration, watching Craig's hand go down and pop the button like it was so damn easy. Why was he having so much trouble with that? Trying to ignore his feeling of hurt from messing up what was supposed to be a sexy moment, he moved himself back a bit when Craig moved the seat, and then he leaned back over so he was hovering over the other's lap.

He put his fingers on either side of Craig's pants, pushing down a bit so his boxers and jeans were a bit lower around his sides. Then he slid his right hand into the other's pants in order to lift the other out of his jeans. Craig was sort of hard already, but he wasn't all the way there. Moving downwards, he licked the length of the other using the flat of his tongue.

**Craig's breath hitches as Stan's tongue actually touches him. He keeps his eyes trained on the road, though, determined to not get too distracted. "Just… don't tease me a lot," he comments, knowing that the teasing is what gets to him. As long as Stan just gets right to it, he should be okay.**

"Okay," Stan said, even though he wanted to tell Craig to fuck off if he wanted him to dive right into it. No, Stan didn't care if he dove right into it either, but being told not to tease was sort of annoying - it reminded him that Craig had told him he had pride in himself for being a cocktease.

He lowered himself downwards, taking Craig in. His tongue twisted around the head for a moment, before Stan moved lower, further and further downwards. Because he finally was learning how to relax his throat, he could take Craig in further than usual. He used one hand to hold Craig down by his thigh, pressing him into the seat - then used the other to cup him inside his half-drawn down pants.

**Craig releases a shuttering breath at the feel of Stan's mouth consuming him. Okay, maybe he'd be less okay than he thought, but at least he can still keep his eyes on the road. He wants to clench them shut – **_**god, **_**he wants to stop and tangle his hands in Stan's hair – but he continues to watch the road. He bites his lip hard enough that he thinks it might bleed. Not is definitely not the time for Stan to be trying new things like **_**deepthroating**_**. That's actual penetration, and Craig wasn't really prepared for that when he told Stan it was okay. His hands clench on the steering wheel as he strains to focus.**

By the time Stan had taken in Craig as far as he was confident he could go, he started moving in a way to massage Craig with his mouth; closing his eyes to try and concentrate on not gagging. Because he was nervous Craig might actually buck him, he pushed as hard as he could on the other's thigh, extremely close to the crook of his hip- pinning him to the seat. His other hand, nestled in the seat of his boxers underneath his balls, now moved so he could stroke the other with his middle finger. He gave a few forceful sucks before he pressed into Craig's side again, almost out of caution.

**Craig is thankful for Stan's incessant pressing on his leg, it being the only thing keeping Craig from thrusting up. He's not sure why Stan is paying so much extra attention when Craig specifically said not to tease – **_**that fucking finger stroking his balls**_** – but he's not about to complain because it feels damn good. He keeps his eyes trained on the road, praying to god that he doesn't have a reason to be watching the fields, because if he has to look away from straight ahead he'll drive off the damned road.**

Completely ignoring the fact that ball stroking fell under the category of teasing, Stan went back to cupping Craig as he focused solely on coaxing the other to release. He wasn't exactly sure how long he could stay as he was without triggering his gag reflex, so he decided to quicken the process by saying, "hurry it up" but it only came out in a long drawn out hum.

**Craig bites down harder on his lip, actually cutting skin on the inside. He knows it won't be long with the way Stan is relentlessly working him, and the exit for South Park is only about a mile off. After another agonizing minute, he comes, releasing a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding, along with a jagged groan. He's gripping the steering wheel so hard by now that his knuckles are white.**

It felt weird having Craig so far in and having him release, but Stan tried not to panic so he didn't gag. Slowly he backed off, and removed his hands from Craig's pants and slid back into his seat. Wiping his mouth casually on the back of his hand, he went back to looking out the window, wondering if Craig would comment on the quietness. Well, what was he supposed to say? They were almost home anyways.

"I should probably go to my house tonight, because I have to pack stuff up still." Stan commented finally, breaking the silence.

**Craig takes a second to relax his heart beat and steady his breathing before tucking himself back into his pants and fastening them back together. That was probably a really bad idea, considering Craig totally tunnel visioned and they could have hit anything if the roads weren't so empty. "Uh, yeah, I need to pack some stuff too," he says, not sure why Stan changed the subject so quickly. "I'm not going to pack anything more than what I need to survive for now, though, because we'll have a hard enough time moving all this shit, plus our beds and dressers and that couch and table and all that other shit that's going to be a pain in the ass. So I can get things like all my clothes and stuff later."**

"Shelly offered to help me move last night, she texted me," Stan commented idly, his tone even as he leaned on the window.

"I'm packing everything I need, uh...leaving a lot of stuff. My dad said I can't take my bed, or my dresser, but I can take the nightstand and my desk. Um...I have a lot of sports stuff, should I just leave it?"

He didn't want to - a lot of it was collectible stuff. He would though, if Craig wanted him to leave it. Since it would take up a lot of space and he really didn't want to crowd the apartment, and have it possibly irritate Craig.

"**Well there's two bedrooms, you can bring whatever you want to. But really, they're not letting you take your dresser? That's yours. And what the hell are they going to do with an empty bed? Not that we need it, but I don't really understand," Craig says. He doesn't understand when parents 'don't let' their kids do things. Craig's parents have never really interfered a lot in his life, because they let him make his own decisions, so Stan's parents are odd to him. "Anyway, yeah, bring everything you want to bring; it's your apartment too."**

"Well they paid for it, dude, it's their furniture. I paid for my desk and the nightstand was a gift from my grandpa," Stan explained, though it was sort of odd to him too - when Shelly moved out, his parents let her take her bed; but that might have been because she didn't have a job at the time. With a shrug, he looked out the window and then said, "Uh, okay...but I have a lot of sports stuff. Like...a lot. A lot of equipment, and a lot of memorabilia. I mean, we could probably sell the stuff that was signed by football players, that might get us some money and it'd save on space, but...uh. I don't know."

"**Stan, if it fits in your room, I'm pretty sure it'll fit between the two rooms in the apartment. It'll be fine," he says. Why is Stan so worried about it anyway? It's not like he has an entire attic full of shit like Craig does. Either way, he's sure they'll be fine. They've got a lot of storage space in the apartment in the form of a coat closet, a rather large extra closet, a whole extra bedroom, and the walk in closet in their room. He thinks they'll be just fine with the space they have.**

"It's in the basement too...maybe I could just sell all of the football stuff. We don't want that like...clutter." Actually, Stan really loved his football stuff - but Craig didn't seem like the type to want that around his living space.

"It's okay, I'll just put it up on ebay after we move in."

He looked over at Craig, and then back at the dash.

"...so what did you think of that?"

"**If you don't want it then I can't stop you from selling it, but if you just don't want it in the house then why not leave it in their basement?" Craig asks, wondering why this is an issue. Then he realizes that he might be underestimating exactly how much shit Stan has. With his spending problem and all, Stan might just have another fire pit in the basement that Craig's never seen because he doesn't go down there. Well… he's sure they can find space for all of it if Stan wants it. Craig isn't going to take away something Stan wants.**

A little put off that Craig avoided the question he asked, he frowned and looked away for a moment. The stuff was in boxes - it wasn't as disorganized as his room used to be.

"It's no big deal, I'll sell it so we can have the money. But...like, seriously, what did you think of that? You know, ...like what we did ten minutes ago."

He kept his eyes out the window, watching the field.

"**Oh, I thought you meant what did I think of the eBay thing. Um… what do you mean what did I think of it?" he asks, not sure why Stan would ask. He's never asked before, but Craig supposes that it deserves an answer. But what can he say more that 'I liked it?' "It was fun. I had a damned hard time focusing on the road, though, with my dick stuffed down your throat. Since when can you do that, anyway?"**

"Do what?" Stan asked, though he was secretly pleased that Craig had noticed what he did. "Isn't that the same as always?"

He paused, thinking about it for a moment. He really didn't get to do anything but please Craig, but he decided after a few seconds had passed that he didn't care; when Craig was happy, he was happy.

"If you think that was difficult, next time you should let me drive while I do oral on you."

It was a joke, he was hoping Craig didn't take him seriously. As much as Stan did that put his life at risk, he didn't have a death wish.

"**You're a shit," Craig says, his voice light on a chuckle as he takes their last exit before they hit South Park. "You know damn well there's a difference between just sucking someone off and taking their whole dick down your throat." He gives Stan a look out before turning back to the road. "Anyway, so you want me to come pick you up after you're done packing or do you just want to sleep at your house tonight?" he asks. He didn't really think before he asked, but now he realizes that it might come off as a lot. There's no reason Stan should have to sleep at Craig's every damn night, but Craig just assumed. Well, they're going to be living together, so maybe it's not as off as he thinks. Maybe offering is the right thing to do.**

"Yeah, guess there is a bit of a difference there," Stan mused out loud, but then thought about Craig's next question. Why did he assume that he was going to sleep over at Craig's house every night? Well...he sort of had anyways. "Uh, I think I'm sleeping at my house tonight."

He paused for a moment, wondering if Craig would get offended. Glancing towards him he said, "...because I want to sleep with Halftime one last time, okay. I mean, I could nap over there, but it's not the same because...well, she's old, and I want to sleep with her tonight, okay."

"**That's fine," Craig says, because it is. It's not like he owns Stan, and even when they're living together he can visit home whenever he wants to. "I'll just drop you off and let you pack. …unless you want me to stick around for a few minutes because, you know, you didn't exactly get off just now," he says in offering. It's mainly to change the topic, but also because it's true.**

"It's fine," Stan said, though he was thinking the opposite. Really, he didn't know who was home - and the last time they had done it in his room, Shelly had commented on it, and it made him embarrassed. Just thinking about it made his face flush, because his mother too had mentioned how loud he was playing his music, and then his dad asked him who he was dating again.

"Uh...Maybe tomorrow, at the new apartment you can...yeah."

"**Well we can do it tomorrow too, you know," Craig says, sliding his eyes over to Stan. "How else to you expect to break in the new place?" he asks, letting his lips fall to a smirk. He's past the slight awkwardness of Stan wanting to stay home and more focused on the fact they can finally fuck freely in their own home by this same time tomorrow. And Friday is their one month, and then they're going to France. What's there to actually be upset about right now? Damn fucking nothing, that's what.**

"No, really...uh, let's just you know, wait till tomorrow," Stan said with blatant hesitation, his eyes narrowing as he looked towards the window. They were almost to his house and he really didn't want to explain to his parents why Craig was there for about twenty minutes and then left.

"Don't be upset about it...just...well, I don't think the music covered up what we did last time and my parents...it was awkward. They weren't upset about it, they just...asked questions. It was weird, I don't want it to repeat, okay."

"**If you're just worried about them, there's other places we could go, but whatever. I'm not upset, I was just trying to pay you back," he says. He doesn't like giving head anyway, and just jacking Stan off doesn't seem very… it just doesn't seem to fit the situation somehow. Craig would do whatever Stan asked, though, so whatever, if he doesn't' want anything then Craig isn't going to push.**

"Don't worry about it, I liked doing it, so..." Stan looked away, watching as the other pulled up to his house after a few minutes. As soon as the car came to a halt, he moved to open the door and literally leapt out. If he stayed any longer, he'd probably suggest to Craig they go find a restaurant bathroom to occupy together for everything but the use it was meant for - and he really needed to pack. Spending so much time with Craig hadn't given him much time to pack stuff. He didn't really make progress on anything when Craig was in the general vicinity.

He walked around the car after shutting the door, and opened Craig's door to kiss him on the lips. Then he leaned on the door for a moment and said, "If we do something, I'm never getting anything done, so let's just call it a night now and celebrate tomorrow okay?"

**Craig kisses Stan when he comes over to his side of the car and remains seated instead of getting out, since Stan was right there anyway. "Yeah, that sounds good," he agrees. "What time do you want me to come over tomorrow? I'm going to go get the keys at noon, so whenever you wanted me to come get you so we can start moving shit, I'll be awake." He's not sure if Stan will want to go get the keys with him or not. He's not even sure if Stan knows what complex they moving to, but Stan hasn't asked, so he figures it doesn't matter.**

"Okay, uh...one, probably." He really didn't think he'd be sleeping much tonight- there was so much he hadn't gone through, and he had just gotten the boxes maybe three days ago. And he wasn't exactly the best at packing - he just threw everything in boxes and wasn't using the most of his space inside them. "See you then,"

He walked off, glancing back to wave at Craig before he went inside the house.


	41. 06 20 2012

**06.20.2012 (You might notice things missing; that it not because they're not included, that is because Stan and I simply did not have time to include them. I am very sorry. D: )**

* * *

"Jesus fucking christ, that was a lot of moving." Stan was lying on the queen size mattress, his eyes on the ceiling in the bedroom. He could hear Monster wheaking in the other room - but it stopped shortly, and then it was quiet again. Their neighbors were pretty quiet, he hadn't heard a soul move in the time they were clunking around their apartment, throwing down boxes and piling them up. Which made him think, crap - they had a long evening of opening damn boxes and setting stuff up.

He pushed himself up on the bare mattress, looking over at Craig. "Hey...why does this place seem so familiar? Our room number is D12, right?"

Stan froze after he said it. ...D12. The outside of the apartment seemed familiar too - only the last time he had been here, he had a truck. And then it hit him - this was the same apartment as Damien. "...oh my god Craig you didn't."

"**I didn't what?" Craig asks from the next room. He hadn't heard most of what Stan said because he'd been bringing in the last box of the day. He's hot and gross and his back kinda hurts and all he wants to do it go flop in bed next to Stan. So that's where he goes. He looks over at Stan from his new spot, laying on his back at his side. "Sorry I missed most of what you were saying."**

"Craig, we're in apartment D12. In **this** apartment complex. This is the same as..." Stan looked around, and then realized...well, maybe he had to make sure. He was still hot and exhausted, but suddenly had a new vigor towards finding out if his worst fears were coming to life. Standing up from the bed, he walked out of the bedroom, and then out the front door - making sure it was unlocked so he could get back in. Glancing to his right, he saw D13 right next door - yes, that was the door he remembered shutting that night when he was mortified about living through breaking his arm. And the night with the pizza.

"Oh my god." He muttered, and then promptly kicked the door frame of D13. Fucking A, he was so excited and then - then this! Why, out of all the open apartments, was D12 open? The first thing that popped up in his mind was that Damien probably killed his last neighbors. Goddamnit, out of all the people on the planet to end up in the neighboring apartment, it had to be Damien. How could Stan have adventurous new-apartment sex when he knew the Antichrist could be listening next door? Realizing he had kicked the door frame really loudly, he quickly slipped back into their apartment and locked both the bottom lock, the bolt lock and the chain lock. Walking back into the bedroom, he sat down on the edge of the bed and then said with his eyes becoming slightly watery and his voice quivering, "Craig, this is the apartment right next to Damien's."

**Craig waits while Stan is gone, and site up when he comes back in the room looking teary eyed and half broken. "Stan, it was the only one available; I didn't even remember because I was caught up in the good parts… Come here," he says, wrapping Stan up in his arms. Fucking fuck, that's right. This **_**is**_** the apartment right next to Damien's. Craig really hadn't even realized until just now. "He's not going to hurt you anymore, he can't. If he tries, Token is sending him to Hell, so you're okay. He's just going to be a really annoying neighbor, at most. It'll be okay," he says. He brings a hand up to Stan's hair, his auto response to make Stan feel better.**

Still sitting, yet now having Craig wrapping his arms around him made Stan slightly miserable. It reminded him why he was afraid of Damien in the first place - Craig. He didn't want anything to happen to Craig. Now he was sitting in the apartment next to Damien's, with Craig. Well, his brain reasoned- he'd just have to hug Craig extra tight at night, as if he were clinging onto him for dear life.

Putting his hands down on Craig's arms and looking behind him at the other, he frowned and shrugged. "Yeah, the worst neighbor ever. Let's just try to avoid him, okay? Completely. And when he does find out, let's ignore him so he doesn't come in." He remembered how he was in denial over forgetting to lock doors - in reality, he always forgot to lock the door. Everywhere. His truck, his room, his house - it was a horrible habit.

"**Well if we don't tell him, how will he know? The wall here are actually pretty good, for an apartment anyway, so it's not like he'll hear us talking. And he doesn't know what my car looks like, as far as I know. And he's a total shut in, right? So we don't have to worry too much about. Even if he notices us, yeah, we can just ignore him. Something tells me he'll get bored if we don't pay him any attention." Craig squeezes Stan once, trying to be reassuring, before dropping his chin on Stan's shoulder, the one he's looking over. He purses his lips out in a stupid way to try and get Stan to kiss him, and forget that Damien is in the room next to theirs.**

"What happens when something breaks in his apartment. He comes over and uses ours. He doesn't give a crap if there's doors, Craig, he goes through windows. And let me guess, our balconies are attached. He'll just use the back door. We're going to have to buy like ten times the amount of food we normally get because he'll raid our fridge, he's a lazy fuck who doesn't do grocery shopping." Stan grumbled, looking over at Craig apathetically as the other tried getting him to kiss him. He was too upset though to play along, so he turned back forwards and moped visibly as he looked at the opposite wall. Great, they finally have their own apartment, and the problems just continue.

"We're cursed."

**Craig frowns when Stan ignores his kiss. "Don't worry about Damien, okay? It'll be okay; we're not cursed." He turns his head and kisses Stan's neck lightly instead, considering his kiss had been denied. Stan doesn't need to be worrying about Damien. "You know what, if he does any of those things we can jut report him to the apartment manager and he'll get kicked out of his own apartment, okay? He can't bother us unless we let him, and we're not going to let him," he says, his lips brushing lazily over Stan's neck as Craig had been too lazy to move away. He holds Stan to his chest, trying to let him know that everything would be okay.**

"Yeah...I guess. But he's still going to hear us going at it." Stan grumbled, even if Craig's touch was making him slightly aroused. By the time the other's lips had grazed his skin, he rolled his eyes and turned to look at Craig, and then said, "I'm going to go to the store and pick up something so I can make us food, we don't have anything in the fridge."

The thought of Damien hearing completely creeped him out.

"So I'm going to go do that now, okay."

"**You think we're the only people he's going to hear? Or that he'll care?" Craig asks, actually a little put off by it himself, but not letting it show. Anyone else he couldn't care less, but somehow the Antichrist hearing them fuck doesn't sound appealing. …scratch that; hearing the **_**Antichrist**_** fuck doesn't sound appealing.**

**Deciding to change the subject for both their sakes, he asks, "Do you want me to go with you to the store or do you want me to stay here? I'll probably unpack some of the boxes, like bathroom stuff or something if I stay here."**

"...uh. Bathroom stuff."

Stan repeated, his eyes widening a bit and his voice was a bit higher as he said, "Uh, can you start in here or something? Like...bedroom. Or kitchen. .."

Stan had many reasons for denying Craig access to the boxes he labeled 'bathroom'. If he even discovered how many hair products and lotions Stan had, Stan really didn't trust any person on the planet with that information. His idea with bringing them was that he would have a chance to thin out the stuff he didn't really use anymore (which was probably two bottles) and then hide the rest somewhere like under the sink (around fifty bottles) and then the rest he could put under the mattress or something.

"Yeah, if you do the kitchen then I can make the food in there when I come back."

"**Oh, good idea, I'll do that so you can make something. But if I finish, I'd at least like to have shampoo and soap and stuff so I can take a shower after all this fucking moving," he says. He's not sure why Stan panicked when he said 'bathroom' because it's not like he has anything Craig won't see eventually. But whatever. "What are you going to buy?" he asks, not questioning it. If Stan wants to unpack the bathroom then by all means, he can unpack the bathroom.**

"I don't know, I was going to grab uh...ground beef to make burgers or something," Stan shrugged, trying to calm his nerves from his horrible secret almost being discovered. Then again, he had like fifty of them in boxes, so he had a feeling he would have to hide or toss certain boxes they had carried up in the end anyways. Like his box of poetry and short stories.

"So, I'll be back."

He got up, but turned back around to kiss Craig on the lips before he walked out the door. He snagged Craig's car keys off of one of the boxes, and then walked out the door (after locking it behind him of course) - hurrying quickly down the steps just in case Damien walked out.

**It takes Craig a second to realize that Stan just took his car. It make him kind of nervous, because he's never let anyone drive it and Stan just got in an accident, but he doesn't really have a choice at this point but to trust Stan with it. He just makes his way to the kitchen and opens the box they'd set in there. Well, most of it is just scattered already since they bought it and didn't actually have to pack it, but whatever. He sighs as he sets to work.**

After Stan returned from the store, he dumped the bags on the counter and set the stove - then he took out a new frying pan, because he really didn't think Craig had one of those. Grabbing an old spatula from what he brought, he set it on the counter as well. Soon he had the burger meat mixed, and he put them on the pan and looked over to where Craig was working as he washed his hands in the kitchen sink. Then he dried them off on his pants before he spoke.

"Oh, sorry, just sort of got caught up in that.." He mumbled as he walked over and kissed Craig on the lips, and then leaned on him, hoping he'd give him a hug.

**Craig continues to try and organize their kitchen, it taking a lot longer than he'd thought it would. He had to decide where to put plates and fucking cups and knifes and bowls and it was exhausting trying to put everything away and he doesn't even want to think about the rest of the house. He turns around when Stan comes to kiss him, though, and holds him as he leans into his chest. "That's alright," he says, also having been caught up in trying to put everything away. He's pretty much done, just a few things left. "We should go shopping in the morning for shit like milk and eggs and bread, you know, staples," he says, if Stan didn't already buy those things.**

"Already did," Stan said as he leaned on Craig lazily, even if he was fully aware Craig was already tired. He didn't feel like holding himself up though, and it was an annoying habit he had - he even leaned on his mother. With a sigh, he put his arms up on either of Craig's shoulders, and then continued to lean like he was depending on Craig to keep him up.

"We're not having sex tonight," He stated rather calmly, but it was the truth, he had no energy whatsoever. This was all...exhausting. Why did he think originally that it would be great to have sex the first night of moving in?

**Craig leans on the counter and takes on Stan's weight, holding him upright. "That's okay, we can have fuck as much as we want to after we're done unpacking. A celebration, I guess. After we eat, we should probably just take showers and head to bed, though. Today was fucking exhausting."**

"It was...good god.." He could hear the sizzling of the burgers already, and he groaned as he leaned on Craig still, burying his face in the other's shoulder. Why did things move quickly when he didn't want them to? Like if he had been watching those burgers they would have taken for fucking ever to fry. With a sigh, he got up and went back in the kitchen to flip them, and then got out the buns and condiments for the burgers.

After the burgers were done, he threw four on the buns and then put cheese slices on each. Two for each. If Craig complained, he'd just tell him to wrap them up and stick them in the fridge. Carrying the plate out, he held it out for Craig and then realized he had put cheese on his burger without asking.

"Aww, crap. Do you like cheese on your burgers?"

**Craig goes to sit at the table when Stan eventually turns back to coking, but then realizes that they haven't cleaned it yet and it's been sitting in storage for a few years and it's covered in dust and probably other things he doesn't want to know about, so he sits on the couch instead. His TV is sitting in front of it, but it's not hooked up yet.**

"**Yeah, cheese is fine," he says, taking the plate and thanking God that there were two burgers instead of one. He didn't eat a lot while they were packing/moving, so he's fucking hungry after putting so much energy into his day. He doesn't care what else is on the burgers so he just starts eating as he waits for Stan to sit down. "Thanks," he says between bites.**

"Thank GOD, I was about to say if you didn't want the cheese I'd eat the burgers," Stan admitted, and even though he probably wouldn't have actually done it - he was fabulously sarcastic when he just wanted to pass out from exhaustion. Sitting on the couch, he demolished the first burger in silence, and then picked up the other and looked at Craig.

"I didn't do just plain burgers, sorry...I used garlic salt, pepper and cumin, and then I cooked in ketchup."

He wondered why he had to apologize for great burgers, so he said, "If you hate spices just tell me, I don't need to use them..."

"**Stan, honestly, I'm eating so fast right now that I can't even taste it, but I'm sure it's delicious so you don't have to defend it," he says, starting into his second burger already. He hopes that didn't offend Stan if he worked super hard on the or something, but they're at least filling Craig properly. He takes a second to actually chew and taste it so he can tell Stan it's good, which, shit, it really is. "It's they're awesome," he says. He eats the rest of the burger a little slower so he can actually enjoy it instead of inhaling it.**

"Fuck, I didn't even taste it really, I'm used to it," Stan commented, and then added for clarification; "I didn't want you thinking I like...poisoned it or something."

Even if it didn't cross Craig's mind, Stan still wanted him to know he didn't spike the burgers with rat poison. Even if he had already eaten one and it would have been stupid to if he cooked something into it...either way, he wanted to get it out there in case really good food made Craig sick or something. He finished his burger as quickly as possible, and then got up to move the plates back into the kitchen.

"...Uh, do you want to shower?"

**Craig finishes off his burger and hands the plate to Stan when he reaches for it. "You mean me or us?" he asks, raising an eyebrow at Stan's question. Even if they're not having sex tonight, he can't tell if them showering together will be faster or slower than normal. …maybe it would just be better for them to shower separately, because it doesn't matter how exhausted Craig is; if he sees Stan in there, all naked and dripping, he's not going to **_**not**_** touch him.**

"Okay normally I'd say us, but we can take separate ones tonight, because I don't think we can do together ones without molesting each other." Stan commented blandly as he stood up and walked back into the kitchen, allowing Craig to go do whatever he wanted. Instead, he went back to the shopping bags where he had left the milk and eggs, and he put them in the fridge. Then he put the spices in an area he thought looked like a spice cabinet, right next to the fridge - and he put the cereal on the other side in the other cabinet. God, all these empty cabinets.

When he got to the last of the bags, he stopped when he found an item he managed to purchase without getting ID'd. A bottle of Merlot sat in his hands as he listened to the shower run, and he glanced over his shoulder towards the door before he set it on the counter.

Pacing back into the room, he headed right for the box where he had kept his stories. Undoing the top, he dug through under notebooks until he found the bottle opener he had hid. Then he went to the kitchen, and hesitated before he dug the bottle opener into the cork, winding downwards.

He stopped mid-process of opening the bottle however, and backed away, putting his hands on the counter behind him. He didn't want Craig to be pissed at him for buying alcohol, or getting away with buying alcohol- or even that he had a bottle opener in his stuff. Why he thought this would be a nice touch to the evening, he didn't know. Maybe he was just desperate for an excuse to drink. He heard the shower turn off, and he looked towards the door from the kitchen and waited for Craig, staying far away from the bottle until the other came in.

**Craig is amused by the fact that they'd both had the same thought and makes his way over to a box of his own showering supplies. He gets what he needs and heads off to the shower. He takes a little longer than normal, which still isn't that long, because the hot water feels good on his sore muscles. By the time he's done he feels completely relaxed. He wraps the towel tightly around his waist, not actually sure where his clothing is in the mass of shit they moved.**

**He makes his way back out to Stan, and feels his jaw tighten a bit when the first thing he sees is a bottle of alcohol on the counter. He relaxes a bit, seeing that it's still unopened, but he still wonders where the fuck Stan had gotten it. "Uh," he tries, not sure what to say. He doesn't think he should, well… **_**scold **_**Stan or something stupid like that, especially when the bottle isn't even open, but he feels like he should say **_**something **_**because he has it at all. He just waits for Stan to explain.**

Looking away from Craig, he began: "I grabbed it at the store and the girl didn't ID me and it went through and I thought it was a sign we were supposed to drink it tonight okay, I wasn't going to hide it or anything and this is the first bottle of alcohol I've touched in awhile and I didn't even open it all the way and my grandmother gave me that bottle opener it's a hand me down one so that's why I had it, and I'm not going to touch it now you can open it because then you can tell how much I have." He finally breathed after his short rant, and looked a little red in the face as he realized he had been gripping the counter ledge behind him. Slowly loosening his grip, he looked at Craig now, wondering how disappointed he was going to look at his explanation.

"**Stan, relax," Craig says, noticing how shaken he's getting. He takes the few steps toward the other and wraps him up in a hug. "We can share a drink to celebrate moving together; that's an appropriate reason to drink. It's not like you're going to get smashed because you're upset, this is fine." After a moment of holding Stan to make sure he's okay, he turns and finishes opening the wine. He gets two glasses – regular cups since they're not fancy enough to have wine glasses – and pours some into each of them. "Just take this," he says, handing one of them to Stan, albeit with a bit of caution, "and that's all you have to drink, and then we can go to bed after you take a shower. Sound good?" he asks, holding his own cup out for Stan to clink his against. He's not actually too sure about Stan drinking at all, but they'll never know if it's okay unless they try, right? Alcohol is fine in moderation, as long as Stan doesn't go overboard.**

"Okay," Stan said after a moment of just focusing on his breathing; his heart calming down when Craig handed him the cup. "Okay, just this."

The minute Craig had turned his back to get his own cup, Stan took one large swig from the cup- essentially chugging it. When he realized he hit the bottom, he stared at the cup blankly, as if he had the biggest problem in the world. His alcohol went away too quick. Looking up at Craig, he opened his mouth to say something, and then he shut it again, because he had almost asked for more when Craig told him no already.

"...Yeah, I'll go take my shower now."

**Craig is a bit shocked by how quickly Stan intakes that cup, even though he shouldn't be, and just kind of nods as Stan says he's going to go shower. "Yeah, okay, sounds good," he says, drinking his own glass before setting it in the sink. He takes Stan's and put it there as well and leans over to give Stan a kiss before Stan goes off to shower. He picks up the bottle of alcohol, not sure what to do with it. Should he just leave it in the fridge? Well, again, the only way to know if Stan will drink it is to trust him first. He opens the fridge and sticks it inside before going to try and find some of his clothing. He manages to find a pair of shorts that he'd shoved in a random box and slides those on.**

Stan walked off after setting down his cup, and went to the living room where he had his box for the bathroom. Finding a few bottles that he felt were satisfactory for his hair and body wash tonight, he put them in the crook of his arm and walked to the bathroom. Setting up the six bottles on the counter, his brief buzz of alcohol made him forget that he was initially trying to hide his dependency on haircare products and lotions.

After taking his shower, he abandoned the products on the counter after he used them. Stalking out buck naked into the room, he went to one of his clothes boxes and pulled out a reddish pink pajama set. He pulled it on and then stretched, and grabbed a blanket from another box and dragged it into the room with the mattress. Climbing on, he cuddled underneath it, using his arm as a pillow.

Then, realizing he didn't know where Craig was, he said loudly, "Craaaaaaaiigggggg, where are you, hug the fuck out of me."

**Craig comes into the room with four pillows Stuffed into his arms. He didn't find any sheets or pillow cases, but he sees that Stan has a blanket, so they should be good for the night at least. He drops the pillows where needed and then drops himself next to Stan. He curls up behind Stan and hugs him around the waist. "Good night," he sighs tiredly. "Get ready for a full day of unfuckingpacking tomorrow," he mutters, not looking forward to it in the slightest. But they'll be done soon, and then they'll be officially living together. The thought makes him feel warm, and he hugs Stan tighter to himself. "Love you," he says, letting his eyes fall shut.**

Stan cuddled up to Craig, but left a distance between them so he could get up if he wanted to in the middle of the night. "Night, Craig," he said, and then closed his eyes. He didn't fall asleep though when Craig fell asleep, instead he listening to the other's heavy breathing, and thought about what Craig might have done with the bottle of Merlot. After awhile he couldn't stand it anymore, so he got out of bed and stalked off to the kitchen, looking in all the cupboards for the bottle. No, not there. Then he decided to check the fridge.

When the glorious white fridge light hit the shiny bottle, his eyes widened and his hand automatically stretched out to grab the neck of the bottle. He thought briefly about putting it back, but the temptation was too much, and he ended up drinking it in all of ten minutes, taking short breaths in between chugs. The familiar feeling of relief and happiness was warming him as he set the bottle in the sink - and it cracked on impact because he dropped it.

Feeling overwhelmed with drunken happiness, he swaggered off to the bedroom and all but dogpiled sleeping Craig.

", I love your pointy FACE, I want to make beautiful babies with you, we'll make gorgeous babies and they'll be fucking gorgeous...Craigggggggggggg wake up, oh my god love me,"

He put his face right up to Craig's, pressing the side of the other's cheeks,

"Goddamnit Craig, get up and fucking love me like I love your fucking fuckface, I wantttttttttt you."

**Craig wakes When Stan jumps on top of him, and it takes all of three seconds for him to figure out what's going on. Stan drank that whole fucking bottle, didn't he. He pushes Stan off of him and sits up to look down at him. "You fucking drank; you remember what I said. I'm not touching you if you're drunk," he says, scooting away from Stan on the bed. He's a little pissed off that he couldn't trust Stan with the alcohol, but at least now he knows he should lock it up or something.**

Falling on the other side of the bed with a bounce, he made a pitiful squeaking noise as he hit the mattress. "What the hell Craig." He glared up at the other, and realized he could _tell_ he drank. Fuck. They would never reproduce at this rate, he thought. Why was Craig making this so hard.

"No, come back, we need to make out- I'm horny," Sitting up, he reached out and touched Craig's shoulder, massaging it slightly as he crept closer. "Come onnnnnnnn, Craig, let's have apartment sex and wake up the fucking neighbors, fuck them, come on Craig."

"**Stan, fuck, no, I'm not going to do anything with you. We can have sex tomorrow when you're not drunk off your fucking ass," he says, worming his way out of Stan's hands again. He has a feeling that it's going to be hard to get away from Stan, but if it comes down to Craig will go sleep on the damn couch.**

"No, I want to do something fucking now, do me now, you goddamn son of a bitch," Stan cursed as he nearly lunged at Craig, wrapping his arms around his neck as he pressed his mouth forcefully against Craig's. He used a hulk hold to keep himself on Craig- then moved his legs so he could wrap them around the other's waist, effectively koala-gripping him.

**Craig has to use all of his self control not to kiss Stan back when Stan wraps his legs around his waist. He pulls his head back as much as he can and says, "Stan, I think you're missing the point of this punishment. If you get drunk, I'm not going to touch you; that's that." It hurts his to say it, because even as exhausted as he is, when Stan is throwing himself at Craig like this it's damned fucking hard to say no. He keeps his hands at his sides, not making any moves to help or hinder Stan's current placement. If Stan doesn't back off, then Craig will just have to make him back off. Or try.**

"No, I'm not drunk, I'm just buzzed...fuck me," Stan demanded, feeling his way up to Craig's hair and tangling his fingers into the other's black locks. Pulling on them as he kissed his way down Craig's neck, he opened his mouth and bit into Craig's shoulder, not aware of how hard he was actually biting. He just wanted Craig to do something - god why was he being so mean?

**Craig shudders as Stan tugs his hair **_**and **_**bites him. Dear Jesus fuck, why does Stan have to be drunk? "No, Stan, I can't," he says, trying to pull away now. His words lack conviction, but he tries to make them sound harsh anyway. He somehow manages to detangle himself from Stan and get off the bed. He stands off to the side, trying desperately to calm his heart rate. He can't let Stan get to him or else Stan will just think it's okay to get smashed all the time. Well, Stan isn't exactly **_**smashed**_** right now, but he's definitely drunk, which means Craig can't give in. Besides, they don't have sheets on the bed yet so they'd make a terrible fucking disgusting mess.**

When Craig pulls away, Stan whines noticeably, his arms falling to his sides as he sat abandoned on the mattress. Why was Craig such a bastard sometimes? With his eyes watering slightly, he reached out his arms and said, "I want you, come back?" In the most pitiful way he could muster, and then added, "Please?"

**Craig bites his lip as he looks at Stan's pathetic puppy dog face. God fucking damnit. "I can't," he says again, trying to remain firm even if his resistance is breaking. He can't let it break, though. This is for Stan's sake, so he can stop his fucking drinking. "I'm not going to have sex with you; you're drunk."**

"Then...then come back and hug me?" He kept his arms out for a moment, but when he realized Craig was stubbornly staying away, his eyes watered even more and his arms fell in his lap. Bowing his head and sounding slightly confused from Craig's resistance to his needs, he said out loud with a quivering voice, "I just wanted to be near you..."

"**I know that's what you want, Stan, but I can't do that when you're goddamn intoxicated, okay? If I just give you everything you want after you do something you're not supposed to, then how will you ever stop?" Craig asks. He's overwhelmed with the desire to go and hug Stan, seeing him look all sad and alone like that, but Craig doesn't think he should. It would only escalate. **

Even though Stan was intoxicated, he still registered that Craig wasn't going to give in. With his eyes misty with tears, he slowly crept back to his side of the bed. Curling up in a ball and hugging his knees, he closed his eyes and ignored the fact the blanket was nearby. He was already warm from the temperature of the room and the alcohol, so he didn't really need it - but he did miss the feeling of something being around him. Namely Craig's arms.

**Craig hesitantly crawls back into the bed and pulls the covers back over himself. There's no way he's getting back to sleep tonight. Maybe after Stan passes out, he can bring him back into his arms, because he doesn't think he could sleep without that, but he can't give in to Stan. He just does his best to ignore the fucking sad way Stan is curled up all alone and tries to get some sleep.**

After an hour passes, Stan is out like a light. He struggled to stay awake and to maintain his sadness and sulking, but he was really exhausted, despite the influence of alcohol fueling his earlier antics. His breathing went even as he fell asleep, stretching out just a little and draping an arm over the edge of the bed.

**Craig is still awake by the time he sees Stan's body relax completely. He waits a few minutes, and strains to hear the deep, even patterns of his breathing before even thinking about scooting across the bed. He inches his way over after about twenty minutes of waiting to see if the other would wake. He wraps an arm across Stan's back and sighs as he finally gets back to sleep.**

Stan had stumbled out of bed earlier in the morning than Craig, and then gone and dug through boxes to find Tylenol. After taking three, he realized he worked today, and he cursed as he reluctantly threw on clothes with his head pounding. He called his father and asked him if he could pick him up - he said yes, and then took him to the theater.

After a nine hour shift, his dad dropped him off at the grocery store so he could pick up some things he wanted to buy. He walked around a mile or two to the apartment, despite the heat - walking upstairs and making sure to lock the door behind him. A little robotically, he started making dinner - spaghetti, meatballs, and handmade Italian bread sticks. Then he made a shortcake, and started cutting strawberries.

With a yawn, he popped another three Tylenol after he was finished cutting the berries, and looked out at the room with all the boxes still piled up around. He wondered if Craig was going to be back from work yet - he probably had a later shift, maybe.

**When Craig wakes up, Stan is already gone. He wonders where Stan could have gone, and then realizes that he probably had work. Craig actually considered calling off for a few days to make time for packing, but decided against it in the end. He needs all the hours he can get to start paying for this place. He gets around to a few simple things, like hooking up the television and making their bed, before he has to head off to work himself. He has lunch **_**and**_** dinner shifts today, so it's going to suck.  
At around eight, he realizes that he won't even get home until at least 9:30, so he shoots off a text to Stan telling him he'll be late. By the time he actually gets home, he doesn't even want to think about unpacking boxes after dealing with "my order isn't right!" "can I get extra-?" "what is-?" all fucking day.**

"**Hey Stan," he says, finally fucking home for the night.**

"Hey," Stan called as he heard Craig walk in, still in the kitchen. After checking the shortcake, he walked out with his hand on his neck rubbing it as he walked over to Craig and then put a hand on his hip, and kissed him on the lips. He hadn't gotten Craig's text - his phone was on silent in his pocket because he didn't want anything distracting him from cooking.

"It's our first month an-" He was about to say anniversary, but remembering how Craig reacted to romantic stuff, he stopped himself and tried to remain apathetic as possibly instead of letting a smile on his face. It tugged at his lips though, he was so tempted to smile. "Uh...First month. I made spaghetti."

**Craig kisses Stan and listens to him talk, wrapping his arms around the small of Stan's back. After a second of thinking, he says, "Um, Stan… **_**Tomorrow**_** is our one month, not today. The 22nd." He raises an eyebrow, wondering how Stan messed that up when he's the one that cares more about this kind of thing. Craig doesn't actually care how long they've been together, because they **_**are**_** together and that's what matters, but he still knows what the date is. He can small Stan's cooling, though, and it smells fucking amazing against the shitty Chinese food smell that's probably stuck all over Craig. "Spaghetti smells good though."**

Stan froze as Craig corrected him. He immediately pulled out his phone, checking the date - 21st. Then he looked at his calendar, as if the phone's date would lie - and saw it was indeed the 22nd as their anniversary, NOT today. Not tonight. Staring at the screen, he said, "...aw, fuck. How did I fuck that up."  
Truthfully, he didn't remember much of today - it was all one giant headache. For some reason, his brain had focused on Craig, and he thought of all the awesome things he would do for Craig tonight, and then he thought about cooking - and it was all just one giant blur. He even avoided buying too much because he knew Craig wouldn't like gifts because of Stan's issue with spending - he just planned a really cheap, romantic evening. And now it was one day ahead of schedule.

"Goddamnit, I'm sorry," He huffed as he shoved his phone back in his pocket, walking to the kitchen. He grabbed the strainer and poured the hot noodles in while holding it over the sink, then put it in the serving bowl. Goddamnit, how did he mess up? He even made shortcake. Maybe he should just hide the shortcake- but it would be better tonight, and it might be stale by tomorrow...goddamnit.

"I'm such a fucking moron," He mumbled, adding, "Fucking drunken bastard, can't remember anything, fuck alcohol...fuck it."

**Craig grins as Stan realizes that he's a whole day ahead of time. "Nah, you're just excited that you've been with me for a whole month," he says, trying to lighten the mood a bit. Because it's a good day, not a bad one. They're finally making progress on the move, they've been together a month, and they're going to France this weekend. And Stan made fucking awesome smelling food. What's there to be upset about? Nothing, that's what.**

**He follows Stan into the kitchen and watches as he finishes making the noodles. "So where did you learn to cook anyway?" he asks, wondering how a teenaged boy actually has any culinary skills past putting the frozen waffle in the toaster.**

"I watched my dad cook," He said as he grabbed the sauce off the stove, maneuvering around Craig so he didn't burn the other. Dumping the pan's contents on the noodles, he looked around for the basil he had picked up, and then opened it and lightly put it on top. "Uh, um..." He looked over at Craig, furrowing his brow as he tried blocking the oven by backing into it. "Why are you watching. You should...not watch. Like..."

He gave it some thought, and decided it was the right thing to say.

"I'm banning you from the kitchen for like an hour, okay, just give me some time."

**Craig doesn't really know why Stan doesn't want him in the kitchen, but whatever. Standing there and watching is only going to make him hungrier anyways. "You can't ban me from my own kitchen without giving me a kiss first," he says, leaning toward Stan and giving him a kiss on the cheek. He turns and leaves the kitchen in favor of the living room, where he promptly falls onto the couch. He leans his head on the arm rest and tells himself that he's not going to fall asleep, even if he dozes off a few moments later. It's just a nap, no big deal.**

After finishing up in the kitchen, forty five minutes later- Stan walked out with the bowl of spaghetti and meatballs in his hands. Looking at the table with all the crap on it, he swore out loud. "Goddamnit, fuck." He walked back into the kitchen, and then walked out without the mitts on and picked up three boxes at once and put them on the floor with a slam. He went back in the kitchen and grabbed the dish again, and hurried out because it was hot - he had reheated it after leaving it out so it matched the temp of the meatballs.

Setting it down, he walked back and grabbed the shortcake he had made, and the bowl of strawberries. He set them out on the table, and then stared at it. Somehow it seemed so less romantic surrounded by boxes. Goddamnit, how could he make this look better?

Glancing over at Craig sleeping on the couch, and then he realized he could grab the candle he had from the bathroom in his bathroom box. He walked over and pulled out a white vanilla candle, and then set it down and lit it with his lighter.

Staring at it again, he smiled and then walked back in to get the silverware and the dishes, as well as the glasses.

"No more wine," He muttered as he set everything up, and then walked over to Craig and climbed on top of him, and nuzzled his neck. "Wake up."

**Craig vaguely feels a weight on top of him. His tired mind automatically says it's Stan, so he winds his arms around him and lazily moves his head in accordance to Stan's nuzzle. "Five more minutes…" he mumbles sleepily, hugging Stan tight to himself. He's so fucking tired… All work… all day… just sleep…**

"No, the food...ugh." Stan looked down at Craig, and nuzzled him again, and then lazily fell on top of him with his arms dangling at the sides over the other. Maybe he could just sleep on top of him, and he could sleep, and then they'd both sleep. Food could always be reheated.

"Okay, five more minutes, but you're a bitch." He muttered, and then closed his eyes and laid his head against Craig's chest so he could hear his heartbeat.

**Craig hums in response, not having the energy to for actual words, and just hugs Stan to his chest more. He likes having something warm to hold onto while he's sleeping; namely Stan. So this is just fucking tops in his sleepy mind.**

After thirty two minutes passed, Stan's eyebrows knitted together as he realized that he smelled...what was that? Lo mein? _I made italian, not chinese...what the hell. _He was still partially in the dream, and he sniffed again, nuzzling Craig's neck. With a bothered frown, he finally opened one eye, peering at Craig's chin. Ooooohh. It was just his boyfriend smelling like Chinese food. Remembering he had made them food and now it was forgotten on the table, he moaned loudly, and shook Craig - but remained passed out on top of him.

"Craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaig, I made you spaghetti with fucking meatballs and dessert and now you're letting them get cold and I'm going to have to reheat and they'll be gross, ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh wake up." He ended it with a half-assed kiss on his neck, which turned into a lazy pressing of his face because he was too sleepy to work his lips.

"**What?" Craig says, waking slightly to the feeling of lips pressed lazily against his neck. He blinks a few times, trying to wake himself up. "Stan?" he says, trying to sit up and finding that he can't. "What the hell time is it?"**

"I don't even fucking know but the apartment smells like meatballs and chinese and I'm hungry. But now I'm too fucking tired to move so I think I'm just going to eat your face or something," He lazily kissed Craig's neck again, obviously showing how serious he was as he laid limply on the other. When Craig tried moving, he simply stayed as unmoving as he could so he weighed him down.

"You're warm."

"**But didn't you just say you made food? And dessert? I'm fucking hungry; I didn't eat all damn day because I was at work," he says, not making any more effort to get up if Stan is just going to be dead weight. All that fucking sport muscle made him heavy as all Hell.**

"But I'm comfy and it's your fault because you're there and I'm here and you're warm..."

He built up just enough energy to reach up and ruffle Craig's hair with his hand, and then his hand fell back on the couch cushion.

With his eyes closed he said, "I'll move if you hug me really hard."

**Craig picks up all his energy and hugs Stan to the point he's sure Stan can't breathe. "Good?" he asks. He's really fucking hungry and he wants to eat whatever Stan's mistaken anniversary dinner is because it's probably a lot fucking better than the Chinese food he handed out all day.**

Stan smiled as Craig bear hugged him, even though he was sure he couldn't breathe if he tried. When the other let him go, he lazily rolled off of him and landed on the floor on his knees, and then stood up. "Uh...eat the shortcake first, I'll go reheat the other stuff. Uh...there's bread too, I guess I forgot to set that out..." He walked over to the kitchen, threw the bread from the pan on a plate - and then set it on the table and took the spaghetti with him to heat it.

**Craig picks himself up off the couch with a groan and makes his way over to the newly cleaned table. He takes a seat and stares at the fantastic looking cake. What the fuck; Craig is never going to eat frozen food again if Stan cooks like this. He waits, though, because he doesn't want to just eat without Stan being at the table. Lingering manners from his grandma smacking him upside the head as a child, he supposes, but it still doesn't seem appropriate to eat Stan's food without Stan.**

After the microwave beeped, Stan took out the dish with his hands and sleepily walked back over to the table and set it down. Pulling out a chair, he sat in it and then looked at Craig.

"...what, does it look bad?" He looked at the food he set out - sure, it sat for thirty minutes, but it still looked gourmet. What was Craig's issue? Did he not like italian food or something? With a half worried, half pissed off look, Stan glanced at the other and waited for an explanation.

"**I was waiting for you," Craig says, hoping it doesn't need any more explanation than that because he doesn't want to come off as overly cheesy or something just because he didn't want to eat without Stan. He takes the empty plate in front of him and starts to serve himself food, starting with some of the cake because that's what Stan said to start with, even if the other food is already done now.**

"Yeah...the shortcake," He wanted to tell Craig about it, but he felt like it was too gay even for him, so he left it off at that and took a piece on the plate. Putting on the syrup and then the strawberries with a scoop from the spoon, he ate in silence. He was watching Craig intently, even if the other disliked being watched while he ate. To him, the shortcake was sort of dry-but maybe Craig wouldn't notice.

**Craig eats quickly because he's still fucking starved from his long ass day, and soon the cake is gone. It was good, though, and he knows he'll be eating more later, after his meal. He gets himself some of the actual food and begins eating, munching on his bread. He realizes that it's been oddly quiet, but how it's not uncomfortable. That's… really cool. He's not sure if Stan feels awkward or not, but that's one of the defining aspects of a relationship is when you can sit together and not talk at all and still be happy. Still, after all this fucking food, he wonders what they're going to do tomorrow – their actual one month. "So what are we going to do tomorrow?" he asks, his voice sounding a bit out of place after his previous thoughts on their silence, but he's curious so he lets it slide.**

After his cake, he went for some spaghetti, and sat in silence as they ate. Really, he didn't care - it was how most of his meals went when he didn't sit at the dinner table. Which was more than often, since he liked escaping under the notion he would be studying as he ate. When Craig looked at him and asked him what they would do tomorrow, he frowned, and then looked at a half eaten meatball on his fork.  
"Uh...I planned this. And then it was a day off. ...do you want me to plan something else?" He felt really guilty, like he had taken away the special day because he forgot the date. Stupid hangover.

"**No, no, I like this, it was, um, sweet, but I was just wondering what we're doing. I took the day off, too, so… we could go somewhere if you want… Or something, I don't know. I was just asking, you don't need to feel bad because this is nice," he says, laying a hand out on the table, palm up, in an invitation for Stan to hold it.**

Stan watch Craig try to explain himself, and as he put the half of meatball in his mouth and chewed he thought, _Craig's really adorable when he's trying to explain himself and then he notices I'm feeling bad._ Swallowing, his eyes fell on Craig's outstretched hand, and he realized he hadn't been paying attention to what Craig said at all - all that he got from that was, 'Craig's cute, this is a good meatball, and he knows I feel bad so I want to hug him for acknowledging it'. None of that told him what Craig actually said or was going for. With a blank expression, he reached out with his free hand to hold Craig's hand, and smiled as he shrugged, hoping that was sufficient of a response.

**At Stan's simple shrug, Craig's not exactly sure how to respond. Had he even been listening? "You… what to go to shrug land?" he asks, not sure if he should be annoyed or amused. What, was Stan so enraptured with Craig beauty or something that he couldn't even pay attention? They are **_**so**_** gay. "Did you even hear anything I said?" he asks, feeling a bit like a girl who never gets talked to, but at, because her tits are way too huge for her own good. He kind of thinks it's funny, but at the same time he still need to know what they're doing tomorrow. He raises an eyebrow at Stan, waiting for a response.**

"...what." Stan looked calm on the outside, but he was panicking on the inside. Did Craig actually notice? Damnit. That was hard to explain, should he even try? "Uh...I guess we can go out to eat tomorrow, I don't know. Restaurant, somewhere..." He looked a bit cross as he added, "...I did hear what you said but ... ...uh, okay, fine, I didn't hear a word you said, I spaced out." _While observing your cuteness,_ he wanted to add, but he just thought it instead.

"**Yeah, you spaced out all right," Craig says, smirking at Stan. He doesn't know what Stan spaced out at, but if he was trying to cover it up that means it's worth covering up, so if Craig acts like he knows it'll make Stan spill anyway. "I'll pay," he says, talking about the restaurant. He doesn't have many nice clothes, though, and they'd be somewhere he can't even find with the move. But whatever, he'll try for the sake of doing something to make Stan happy.**

A bit flustered, Stan started turning red, and he said a little hesitantly, "Well, I...well I space out all the time. It's nothing new." He put his fork down on his plate, and then let his hand fall on the table, still holding Craig's hand in his other. "I can help pay..if you want. Or whatever, that's fine."

He stared at Craig, as if he were trying to maintain his poker face. It was unavoidable, Craig's stare bothered the hell out of him when he tried keeping secrets from him.

"Fine. I was thinking you were cute and I got distracted so fuck you for being cute, you annoying cute bastard."

**Craig purses his lips in scrutiny, continuing to stare at Stan. "I wasn't even doing anything cute," he says. He picks his for back up in the wrong eating hand, because his right is in Stan's, and stabs another meatball before biting into it. God a fucking loves this spaghetti.**

"Yeah. Nothing at all." Stan glared at Craig, though he was thinking it again when Craig stared at him with his lips pursed. Goddamnit. He looked down at his plate, and then looked back up at Craig, and raised one eyebrow as he lifted his sock-covered foot and ran it up Craig's leg, pushing on his inner thigh.

Instead of saying anything, he put it back down and then let go of Craig's hand in order to pick up his fork again and dug into the spaghetti.

"**What is this, footsy?" Craig asks, giving Stan an amused look as he touches his own foot to Stan's leg. He finishes his meatball before dropping his leg and kicking at Stan's foot lightly. He continues eating his spaghetti in silence, with his foot on Stan's instead of their hands being together. **_**So gay**_** is all he can think, but that's okay. He likes being stupid with Stan.**

"Asshole," Stan shot at Craig when he kicked him under the table. What a dick. Now his foot was resting on Stan's; and Stan was irritated with it because he had kicked him after he teased him. Moving his foot away, he kept eating without looking at Craig, his eyes on his plate.

"It was, but then you ruined it." Stan commented vaguely, his eyes narrowed at his spaghetti as he twirled it idly on the fork.

"**Aww, don't be sad, I was just playing," Craig says, moving his foot back to Stan's after he moves away. "I love you, Stan," he says, because that should make it better, and because he means it. He eats more of his food, not eating quite as fast as he was before because he's no longer starving and he wants to actually taste it. Stan is a damn good cook. "So where do you want me to take you tomorrow?" he asks.**

"Why don't we order in and watch a movie in our new apartment? Then fuck on the couch." Stan said in an even tone, his eyes unmoving from the fork and the twirled noodles. He felt Craig's foot back, and he repressed the smile threatening to form on his lips. He moved his foot and lifted it to put it on Craig's thigh, massaging the other with the ball of his foot, then moved closer to his inner thigh as he fixed his gaze on the plate.

"**Mm, sounds like a plan," Craig says. He likes the idea of spending a night curled up with Stan on the couch and then fucking his brains into the cushions. Though, the idea that his grandma used to own that couch is a little off-putting… well whatever; it's Craig's fucking couch now. He's not sure what to think when Stan starts pressing up his thing with his foot. He wants to touch Stan, but they're eating… and he doesn't want to waste the food Stan made. He's hungry, too, but he can always eat later, he supposes. One day without food won't kill him, and he already ate cake, so whatever. "You want to do something now, too?" he asks, setting down his fork.**

"No, there's food," Stan stated matter o' factly, as if Craig's question was stupid. He continued to eat, and then moved his sock-covered foot right into Craig's crotch, rubbing it as he did his thigh. Biting into the spaghetti, he finally looked at Craig with a calm expression and said, "Why, you not hungry?"

**Craig closes his eyes calmly as he tries to keep himself collected. It's obviously not a very skillful touch, considering it's with a foot, but it's **_**Stan**_** so that makes it automatically awesome. "Well yeah, I'm fucking starving, but eating can wait if you're going to touch my goddamned dick," he says evenly, opening his eyes to stare back at Stan with that look Stan hates. Or loves. Craig can't really tell which way Stan feels sometimes, but either way. Stan is touching him and he really wants to fucking touch Stan back. His stomach can just go to Hell for an hour.**

Still staring at Craig, but now disgusted that he was giving him that _goddamned look-_ he narrowed his eyes as he continued to move his foot around, now using his toes to press against the other in a kneading motion.

"I'm always touching your dick, you think you'd get over it. No, I don't want to stop eating, you can deal," He stated rather sourly, still bitter about being kicked before. Picking up his fork again to stab a meatball, he put it in his mouth and then raised his eyebrows challengingly as his foot worked.

"**Okay, keep eating," Craig says. He doesn't even give it a second thought before sliding out of his chair and under the table. He kneels between Stan's knees, pushing them apart, and immediately goes for Stan's belt. He makes quick work of the fastenings and doesn't give Stan time to protest before he's got Stan's dick in his hand. He gives it a few languid strokes, just staring at it and ignoring any complaints Stan might have, before making the decision to lean forward and take the head in his mouth. He gives one hard suck, pressing against it with his tongue, before finally looking up at Stan.**

Stan stopped chewing when Craig slid beneath the table. _What the fuck is he doing?_ Stan thought as he wondered if he should be concerned. Maybe he dropped his fork. But wait...his fork was still on his plate. Stan's foot went back down to the floor, and he realized Craig had crawled over to his side of the table, and he looked down at the other with his own fork in his hand as he watched him undo his pants. "...**Craig**." He said harshly, almost in a scolding manner. Then he felt the other pull him out, and his jaw dropped. What. The. Hell. Stan felt aroused the second Craig had touched him - but then- _that_ - he narrowed his eyes as he stared at the other with a blush tinting his cheeks.

"Craig, I made you fucking dinner and you go for the one thing not on the menu. Go back to your fucking seat, I'll stop teasing. If I have to reheat this a second time it's going to taste like shit."

**Craig releases him with a glare. "I swear to fucking God, if you tell me no one more fucking time I'm never going to fucking do it again. Just eat your fucking spaghetti and let me fucking please my boyfriend," he says. He narrows his eyes and continues to glare up at Stan as he closes his lips around Stan again. He gives a harsh suck, taking him in as far as he can on the first go instead of wasting time bobbing in slowly. He draws back, his cheeks hollow, his tongue massaging as he does, and then goes back down. He picks up a steady pace right away, digging his fingers into Stan's thighs and keeping them pushed apart.**

Stan put down his fork stubbornly instead when Craig told him to eat his spaghetti- then he gripped the edge of the table with his hands on either side of Craig. "What the fuck, Craig."

He was watching the other with a muted intensity; on some level, he wanted to tell Craig to back off and finish his fucking dinner, but on the other, he wanted to see what the hell he was doing. How did playing footsie lead to Craig kneeling on the floor. How did it lead to Craig getting pissed off - which Stan found extremely arousing - when he told him to go back to his chair. ...How. What the hell was happening? Thrown off, Stan watched the other take him in, tensing up as he gave a harsh suck, and felt himself caving in to whatever Craig was doing. Damn, he was such an annoying prick - why the hell was he doing this right now, he hadn't even-

His brain was trying to form the rest of his mental objection, but as Craig dug his fingers into his thighs through his jeans, he groaned as his hand went under the table and gripped Craig's hair roughly. His face was extremely red now, and he tilted his head backwards to look at the light over the table. Wow, he never noticed they even had a light that hung down like that, and then he noticed it was off center and not coordinated where they put the table - but god- **CRAIG**. Why.

"Craig, fuck..." He said as he shuddered slightly.

**Craig feels Stan's hand in his hair and it only fuels his desire to be touching Stan. He knows that Stan knows that he likes being bitten, but fuck, he doesn't know if Stan knows how much he likes his hair being pulled, too. He starts pressing the pads of his fingers into Stan's thighs in a sort of massage as he continues to suck, his head going up and down in time. He hums, because he knows that Stan will feel it, and doesn't stop his movements despite Stan's weak protests. He presses the flat of his tongue against the underside of Stan's cock and lets it ripple and work along with his other ministrations. He slowly pulls his mouth away, letting it pop out of his mouth, slick with saliva, only long enough to press a kiss to Stan's abdomen. Then he returns to his self inflicted task.**

His heart raced in his chest as he stared at Craig - now his mind was focused on one thing and one thing only, and that thing was currently being teased mercilessly by Craig. Between the mixture of the visual display and the pressure that was being applied in various areas, Stan couldn't do anything but watch Craig be a dick ...to his dick.

But **God** how he loved that jackass.

"Craig...goddamnit," he said as he went back to his previous location - the moment when Craig had left, Stan wanted to force his head back down, but now he wanted to berate him again. "Why..okay. _**Yes**_ but ...you're...a **bastard**," He breathed as he tried to refrain from releasing. He wouldn't make this easy for Craig if he was going to yell at him like he had before. No, he would try to hold off for as long as possible.

But those goddamn _**eyes**__. _Stupid fucking Craig and his fucking hot stare.

**Craig turns his eyes downward, letting them fall closed with Stan's acceptance of the situation. He knows it can't be long until Stan comes, because this is about how long Stan normally lasts. He bobs his head a bit faster, stroking Stan with his tongue and teasing the head every with it with every up pull. He moves his hands from Stan thighs. Instead, one wraps around the base of Stan's cock to pump what he can't reach with his mouth. The other hand finds Stan's balls, intent on showing him how exactly that counts as teasing and why Stan shouldn't do it while giving Craig fucking road head.**

"I'm-I'm going to-" He said, even though he really wasn't going to come yet - he was going to say, 'I'm going to kill you oh my god' but he couldn't get past the first part. Moaning as he moved to grip the table with both hands, abandoning Craig's hair - almost like someone would abandon ship when they were going down - he was determined to hold on as long as possible. Goddamn Craig goddamn Craig goddamn Craig...It was becoming a chant in he felt his muscles tensing to the point of exhaustion.

**Craig hears Stan's warning, but he has a feeling it doesn't mean what it sounds like. Stan is being stubborn right now, so he's going to make Craig actually work for him to get off. Well fine. Craig can fucking do that. He moans around Stan's dick, simply because he doesn't do it often and it probably has the same effect on Stan that Stan's moans do on Craig. He draws the noise out, sucking harder as he waves his tongue against the length shoved in his mouth. He wishes he had the ability to take Stan in further, just to drive him crazy, but Craig disinterest in giving head prevents him from learning tricks like that. So he just sticks to the basics. He circles his fingers around the base of Stan's cock, preventing him from coming if he's about to. Craig really doesn't want that shit in his mouth; he'd rather have it on the floor. It's wood; it'll clean. He hums again, teasing Stan's balls in his other hand, his fingers working with light touches and taunting brushes.**

Unable to concentrate on preventing the inevitable, Stan attempted releasing, but found that it was impossible. For a moment he panicked, wondering what Craig did wrong that might have broke his dick, and he reached down and grabbed the other's hair fretfully. With his eyes wide, he said a little breathlessly, "What the fuck, Craig!"

If Craig didn't let go, he was tempted to yank him off; the teasing was too goddamn much.

**Figuring that Stan's little freak out was him figuring out that he can't come, Craig backed off, leaving Stan in open air under the table. He lets go with his hand once he's a safe distance to the side and allows Stan to actually release. After, he pulls himself up to Stan – his proximity to the table forcing them extremely close as he does so – and kisses him. He gives a smirk and says, "See? We can still eat our spaghetti, too."**

For some reason it was embarrassing to actually release when Craig moved away, like he had control over something that should have been Stan's choice to do. After the kiss, he quietly put himself away; then he zipped his jeans and then looked at Craig with an extremely serious expression on his face. For a few minutes, he didn't say anything, and he didn't move either. Expressionless.

"Why did you do that."

"**Do what, blow you? I didn't think that would be a bad thing," Craig says, frowning at Stan's not-exactly-happy expression. He gets himself out from between Stan and the table and goes to slump in his own seat. He picks at his food with his fork, wearing his own not-exactly-happy expression. What the fuck; maybe he should just never try to do anything sexually for Stan because he gets shot down every fucking time it's anything other than what Stan specifically asks for. He just stares at his spaghetti and plays with a meatball with his fork, not much feeling like eating it now, despite his hunger.**

Stan slowly moved to pick up his fork, his eyes downcast as he picked up his fork and pushed his noodles around. After fishing it around for awhile, he looked up at Craig with a frown on his face and then back down at the spaghetti as he said, "I liked that a lot but I'm still angry about it," Stan said, even if it was confusing it was true. At this point he didn't know what he was angry about, but he knew he was angry, and he wanted to express it in some way but he was too overwhelmed with feelings to actually be upset.

"I love you." He said after a few minutes, fully aware what he said was confusing.

**Craig resists the urge to frown or say anything about the fact that Stan is angry. Why the actual fuck would Stan be angry about anything that just happened at all? He doesn't even pretend like he's eating anymore and just holds his fork. He's goddamn angry too, if Stan is going to be pissed, and he's actually a little hurt by the fact that Stan is anything but glad right now. Well fucking whatever. Maybe he should just eat and go the fuck to bed; they'll have a better day tomorrow, maybe. "Yeah, love you too," he says, completely unenthusiastic. He wasn't trying to sound uncaring, but fucking Hell. He starts eating again, just to get it over with at this point.**

"Don't be pissed at me," Stan said with a frown, his eyes fixed on the plate in front of him. "I just was...pissed...goddamnit, it was hot, okay. I'm angry you yelled at me and then did something fucking hot. And I liked it, so don't be pissed off at me. You suck."

Stan froze when he realized how _punny _that was.

"...whatever."

"**I didn't yell at you, what the fuck. And I'm only getting pissed off because you're pissed off, so just eat your damn food," Craig says, not understanding why Stan is telling him not to be mad when Stan was the one who was mad fucking first. Who the Hell has the audacity to be pissed off after getting head, anyway? Well, apparently Stan does. Craig just keeps eating his food, not-glaring at his plate as the noodles slowly disappear.**

"...wait, you're pissed off because I'm pissed off?"

Stan stared at Craig in disbelief. ...was he angry at Craig for being angry at him when he wasn't really angry at all? What the hell. At this moment, Stan felt more like a woman than he ever had in his life, and he wasn't really sure how to deal with it. So this was what it felt like to be female. ...weird.

"...well, dude, I...I thought that you were pissed at me and then you did that and ...I don't know, I'm sorry."

He sighed, and then picked up his fork and started eating again, without adding anything else.

"**Stan, why the fuck would I offer you my mouth when you know I hate that if I was pissed off at you?" Craig asks, not following Stan's logic. When Craig does that it's generally considered a good thing, not something Craig does when he's mad. "I was happy because this is fucking sweet as fuck and then I was thinking about laying on the couch with you all day and then you were touching me and I wanted to touch you back, so I did." He's not sure what good his explanation will do, but it comes out in that same not-quite-pissy tone because he doesn't even know what the fuck is happening anymore. He stabs his last meatball and starts to eat it, complaining in his head about how good it is and he probably can't stay mad if he keeps eating.**

"...oh." Stan commented, his eyes focused on the other for a split second before he looked at his food. "...I just thought you kicked me, and I just made this dinner, and...I don't know, Craig, I get really annoyed when people don't eat what I make, okay. I spent all day thinking about this one thing and then I thought we'd go fuck after and then when you slept through it I was like okay, well after you wake up, and then we went back to it, and I thought I'd like...touch you and then you fucking kicked me, and I was like whatever, and then you did that...I mean, I'm not fucking pissed about it anymore, I just get upset when my food is somehow tied in and being..." Disrespected? Ignored?

"...whatever. I'm just going to drop it and be less touchy."

"**Why didn't you wake me up?" Craig asks. It seems like the catalyst to this situation was the fact that Craig fell asleep on the couch. But he was fucking exhausted and starving from working both shifts and Stan didn't want him in the kitchen so he just laid on the couch and accidentally fell asleep. So what? When Craig woke up, he remember Stan fucking asleep on top of him, and then refusing to get up until Craig compensated him. "Bro, I'm sorry I fell asleep, but I was so fucking tired and I was hungry and the couch is goddamn comfortable, but I wanted to eat your food. I didn't eat anything all day, and you cooked a whole meal; why would I not want that?"**

"Because you were sleeping," Stan said plainly, as if it were obvious why he didn't wake Craig up. But that would put the blame right on Craig for falling asleep in the first place, and he didn't want that at all. "Uh...I mean...well, I knew you were tired, and so I let you sleep. It's just stupid okay? I just have an issue with rejection. ...in any form. Even if it's unintentional..." He bit his lower lip, and then leaned on his elbows onto the table edge. Keeping his eyes on the plate and not looking at Craig, he said, "Sorry."

**Craig finally sighs and looks back up at Stan. "Stop apologizing, okay? You made dinner and probably had this whole evening planned out because you're gay like that and I love you so let's just finish eating and go to bed." He might have used 'gay' to describe Stan, but it wasn't mean; he said it endearingly and gave a little smile to show that he's not mad, even if he's still a little irritated. He also left 'go to bed' open ended because they could either go to bed and sleep or go to bed and fuck. Either way, Craig would be happy with it.**

When Stan heard 'go to bed' after eating, he frowned and stabbed a meatball with his fork violently. "...so you don't want to fuck tonight then, I guess," He thought it was probably be for the best - this wasn't how he expected their second month would start. With a glower, he pushed his plate away after finishing half - clearly not how much he wanted to eat, but he wasn't going to continue - and he got up to walk to the bathroom and shut the door.

**Ugh… It really doesn't matter what Craig says, he always fucks it up somehow, doesn't he? Maybe he really should just stop trying and let Stan do all the talking and the sex decisions and fucking everything because Craig just made his fucking boyfriend lock himself in the goddamned bathroom. Craig doesn't even want to try to eat anymore – he'll just try again fucking tomorrow and maybe be successful – but he doesn't know if it would offend Stan more to put the food away or to leave it sitting out. What if he still wants to eat? Or what if he's done eating?**

**Fuck it, Stan is already pissed anyway so why does it matter? He takes the unfinished places and dumps the food into a new Tupperware container, and puts away any other food sitting out as well. As he passes the bathroom on his way to their room, he calls, "Sorry about whatever the fuck I did, but I'll be in the bedroom whenever you feel like joining me." If Stan is even going to sleep in there; Craig doesn't even fucking know anymore tonight.**

After taking a shower, Stan walks out of the bathroom with his towel over his waist. He made a beeline towards the box of his beauty products, and starts loudly shuffling around them. "Goddamnit, where's the fucking burt's bees...oh goddamnit stupid aveda broke open...no, it's all over everything," He groaned as he sat on the floor cross legged, fully aware he was near-naked, and probably had his bare ass pressed against the wood below him. Clinging to the box edge, he dug around and started setting out every bottle in there- at least around fifty, all in a circle around him. When he found one that had gel on it, he wiped it off on his towel and set it down too. He was doing this in a very meticulous way, so it seemed almost as if he were in a trance as he attempted to organize his mess of shampoo.

**Craig hears Stan shuffling around in the living room, and he's a little shocked that Stan really didn't come back to the room. That honestly hurts, and he's not even sure what the fuck kind of fight they're having on the day before their one month if Stan isn't even going to come the fuck to bed. He'd been sitting on the mattress, waiting for Stan to come back to they could patch things up, but… He just lays on his pillow and closes his eyes even though he knows he's not going to sleep. He curls over to be laying on his side, facing away from the door. Well fuck.**

After Stan emptied the box, he sighed in relief- he only lost one bottle in the moving. That was pretty good, right? Slowly getting up to stand on his feet, he was about to step over the bottles but then realized he was trapped in a circle, and he didn't want to knock anything over. What if they like, imploded from being carried over in the heat? Looking around at the circle as if it were a pentagram trapping a demon, he looked towards the bedroom door, then back down at the bottles. With one foot, he lightly tipped over one of the bottles, making a bit of noise as it fell - and then it hit another, and another, and another. Dropping the towel on the floor in panic, he reached down to grab the first glass bottles he saw - ones that had his cologne for dates - and then he frantically looked around as the domino effect happened around him.

"Ah, shit! Goddamnit."

**Craig opens his eyes again at Stan's distressed cry. Well what the fuck is he doing out there? Does he even want Craig's help at this point? Craig would probably just say something else wrong, the way things have been going tonight, and he'd just end up pissing Stan off again. And he's already in bed, and he really doesn't want to fucking get back out since he's essentially quit for the night. His protectiveness wins out, though, wondering if Stan had managed to hurt himself somehow, and he sighs as he gets back out of bed. He makes his lazy way back to the living room, not sure what he's expecting. When he sees Stan, though, he's not even sure what he should be thinking. "What are you doing?" he asks.**

"Uh..."

Stan stared blankly at Craig, still kneeling naked in the middle of the living room area surrounded by shampoo. Awkward.

"...uh...this box...must have been my moms, and then something broke so I took them out, and...uh..."

His ability to explain what happened completely dissipated - really, even if he told the truth he wasn't sure he could tell Craig right now because he was as confused as he was.

Staring at Craig, he said, "...though like, two bottles might be mine. ...or four."

**Craig spares a thought to the fact that Stan is blankly lying to him and tries not to be upset about it. Why the fuck does Stan still think he needs to lie about stupid shit like hair products? He's not even going to say anything though, because he's sick of saying every goddamned thing wrong tonight. "Do you need help?" he asks instead, offering a hand to Stan to help him up. Why was Stan naked on the floor anyway?**

Stan sighed as he reached up and pulled himself off the floor using Craig's help. He bent down to pick up his towel though, and wrapped it around his middle. "Okay, they're mine. I also brought my poems and short stories over in the box under the window, and then I have like three gay porn magazines under that. I fucking hate lying to you." He admitted, and then wrapped his arms around Craig's neck, rubbing the other's back gingerly as he put his chin on the other's shoulder. He really was hoping Craig wasn't going to say something snide, because if he did, he might just slap him over the head- Stan hated when people commented on his hygiene habits. Which made the locker room incredibly unbearable, but whatever, that was a long time ago.

"**Oh," is all Craig says, wrapping his arms around Stan's waist in response to Stan's around his neck. Why did Stan tell him about poems and porn when all he asked was if Stan needed help? He just waits for Stan to say something else, or tell Craig he's done with his hug or something, because he's not about to initiate, end, whatever, anything else tonight.**

Stan held Craig for awhile, but Craig's probably unintentionally apathetic 'oh' had provoked him to think. With his lips pursed, he stared off towards the wall as he hugged Craig, wondering if he had killed the love. Goddamnit, this was the last time he made food. If only he could tell Craig why anything with food pissed him off if it wasn't done just right...it would make sense, probably. But that was probably a conversation for another time.

Backing away, he looked at Craig; connecting their eyes.

"Did I piss you off?"

**Craig lets Stan back away and returns the look. "No, I'm not pissed, I'm just a little put off. Like today started off great and we were going to eat your food but then I fell asleep and then I was trying to suck your dick but it just pissed you off and then I tried suggesting we just eat and that still pissed you off and then I tried suggesting that we go to bed and you just walked away and I've just been really frustrated all night because fuck, everything I try to do just blows up on me so I don't know why I even," he stops, realizing he'd been ranting and that Stan didn't actually need to hear most of that. Any of that. Stan really didn't need to hear any of that. "Look, whatever, we can just do whatever you want for the rest of the night, okay? So just tell me what it is."**

Stan looked at the floor disappointedly, realizing the night was pretty much fucked. They were both put off for different reasons, and now that Craig had pointed out Stan was being an asshole for shooting down all of his advances, even though Stan had liked everything Craig had done- he felt like a major asshole.

With a frown, he reached down and put a hand on the towel because he felt it slipping, and he looked back up at Craig as he suddenly stopped. It was actually relieving hearing him say _something_, even if that something was something that Stan didn't want to necessarily hear - but it was relieving either way. Studying the other's face, he gazed on for a moment before he considered what could improve the night. He was angry with himself for being such a prick, and now he felt bad that Craig was frustrated.

"...I kind of just want to hit myself," Stan admitted, averting his gaze to the floor again. "Or hit my head on the wall but I think that'd disturb the neighbors...uh..."

He knew he shouldn't be thinking about sexual stuff when Craig was frustrated, but it sort of reminded him of the locker room. Craig was getting blueballed. Again.

"...hey Craig," Stan said after a moment, glancing upwards towards the other's face. "...so what would piss you off right now?"

"**Well you intentionally injuring yourself like that would pretty much do it," Craig says, in response to both Stan's inquiries. In reality, Craig is just exhausted and still kinda hungry and now exasperated from all the shit he's had not work for him in the past few hours. "What would you want to piss me off for anyway?" he asks, already having a vague idea. Stan wants to fucking… ugh, Craig doesn't think he'd be up for that kind o thing tonight, but he's not sure how he'd tell that to Stan. Sex, sure, he can do that, but the harder stuff he doesn't even have the energy for.**

"...well then we could use the hogtie..." Stan concluded, his eyebrow slightly raised. The other didn't seem excited- he knew he would get the idea when he said it, and that didn't do anything? Suddenly it hit him that Craig did look really tired, and he had fallen asleep on the couch in the first place. He was probably exhausted. The tylenol Stan had taken earlier had numbed his issues, and he was feeling a bit better now that he had taken a short nap, a shower and eaten something...but Craig still looked like he was about to fall on the floor. "...hey, do you want me to give you a massage?" He asked a little bit on the quiet side, wondering if it was a weird thing to offer.

"**Uh, sure," Craig says, not following how Stan went from 'tie me up and fuck me' to 'do you want a massage.' It's not a bad thing, and Craig actually finds that after thinking about it that would be really, really fucking nice right about now. "Yeah, that would be awesome, actually," he says. He looks at Stan, not sure if he's more confused or relived at this point, but whatever. A massage is a massage, and now that Stan offered there's no way Craig is going to refuse.**

With a sigh, Stan put a hand on Craig's back and guided him to the bedroom, and then said, "Sit on the bed, let me go find oil or something..." He walked back out into the living room and looked at the mess of bottles he had made. Glancing around, he eventually found lavender scented oil - why he had that, he couldn't remember, maybe something about not sleeping well and putting it on the pillow made him sleep better - but it worked out anyways. With it in hand, he walked back in and leaned against Craig as he sat on the edge, and then pressed his lips against the other's as he reached down to take off his shirt.

**Craig lets Stan lead him to the room and does as Stan says and sits on the edge of the bed. He wonders while Stan is gone what kind of massage Stan was talking about. A back massage, an all over massage, what? It doesn't really matter, because he remembers that he really – **_**really**_** – likes Stan's fingers, so wherever they are on him, he's sure it'll feel fucking fantastic. When Stan comes back in, Craig turns to kiss him as he sits next to him. When Stan goes for Craig's shirt, he's painfully aware of the fact that Stan still doesn't have any clothing on. This might start out as a massage, but it will probably end with them fucking, or at least doing something.**

Once Craig's shirt was off, he tossed it to the end of the bed and then went for the top of his pants. Undoing them, he grabbed the edge and pulled Craig forwards to get him to stand, but it was a lazy stand - Stan didn't care if the other leaned on him in the process. After his pants and boxers were discarded, he motioned for Craig to lay on the bed on his stomach.

"Uh...I've done this a lot." He didn't want to say with who - maybe Craig would think he massaged his mom, but...with clothes on. Or his grandpa's feet, who knew. It didn't have to be Wendy. ...even though it was with Wendy, and it usually was an excuse to get to play with her breasts without feeling like a bastard. He climbed up on the bed and straddled Craig's legs, leaning over - his towel was beginning to fall again, but he didn't care. He was lifted off the other so he wasn't rubbing up against him. Taking the oil in one hand, he put it on his hands, rubbing them together first so it wasn't freezing once he put his hands on Craig's back.

Starting from his lower back, he ran his thumbs up on either side of Craig's spine - and then moved them in circles when he got halfway up his back. By the time he reached his shoulder blades, he pressed down the balls of his hands against the other's skin, rubbing in rhythmic circles. He liked the feel of Craig's skin against his own, so he was doing it in a semi-trance silence, focusing on making it as pleasurable as possible for the other.

**Craig let Stan pull him up and take his remaining clothes before he laid back down on his stomach. He felt Stan sit on his thighs and he wondered why Stan was even bothering with the fucking towel. "Does that mean you're good at it?" Craig asks, though he doesn't really care. Even if Stan was bad at massaging, he'd still let him do it because it meant that Stan's hands would be all the fuck over him. He feels Stan start with his hands, and relaxes into the mattress beneath them. Ohh, he's going to enjoy this a lot. A **_**lot**_**.**

"Yeah," Stan said, concentrating on massaging instead of thinking about what Craig was saying. He figured just agreeing with it was best. Working on Craig's hands, he rubbed the other's palms and then rubbed up his arms towards his heart. Because he wasn't paying attention to how he was positioned, he had lowered himself on Craig's thighs, and was unknowingly rubbing against the other because his towel had fallen on Craig's ass. Ignoring it, he methodically worked his way from Craig's arms to Stan's shoulders, and rubbed his thumbs deep into the muscle there.

**Craig lays there, loving the feeling of Stan's hand on him, his fingers pressing into his muscles and kneading them near expertly. Maybe Stan really **_**did**_** do this a lot. He tries his best to ignore the fact that Stan's dick is subtly rubbing against him, but it's a constant in the back of his mind. He also tries to ignore the stirring it creates in the bottom of his stomach, but that's kind of hard to do. The feeling of Stan's hands on him, his bare skin – Stan's bare skin – is starting to get to him. He doesn't know how he's going to ignore it when Stan massages elsewhere. He needs to not think about it and enjoy how good it feels. Just lay there.**

After finishing his upper body, Stan scooted backwards to massage the other's thighs, and then his calves and feet. When he finished, he grabbed the towel that had long been lost on Craig's buttox and then wiped his oily hands on it. With a grimace, he tried rubbing the excess on his own skin, and then slid off Craig, sitting to the side of him.

"...so, uh...was that okay?"

**Craig has a bit of a harder time resisting flipping himself over and just telling Stan to massage his dick when Stan is doing his lower body, but he somehow persists until Stan is done. By the time Stan gets to his feet, he's all but asleep. He barely hears Stan talk, and just hums tiredly in response.**

Stan watches Craig as he drifts in and out, as if he were already half asleep. Figuring it was okay that he didn't really get any action, because instead he made Craig tired ...and that led to his other favorite activity, hugging the hell out of him. Crawling up next to the other, he wrapped his arm around Craig's back, and then leaned over to plant a kiss on his head. With a smile, he ran his fingers through Craig's hair and then whispered, "Night."

**Feeling Stan's warmth and vaguely hearing the word 'night,' Craig mumbles a "Love you," and turns a bit so he can pull Stan against his chest. He feels Stan's against his own and they rise and fall with both their breathing. He wills the blankets to move with his mind, but he knows they won't move. He doesn't want to get up, and he doesn't want to let Stan go, so fuck the blankets, he supposes. He buries his face in Stan's hair and takes a nice, even more relaxing breath before he starts to actually drift off.**


	42. 06 23 2012

**06.23.2012 – 06.27.2012 (Okay so! Before you read this chapter! This is their trip to France, and includes pieces from Craig, Stan, Clyde, Kyle, Kenny, Token, Wendy, and even some more Garrison and another special guest~ SO! Enjoy this chapter, and please let me know if anything was hard to understand or edited weirdly. I will try to fix them to the best of my ability. It was just hard to try to make understandable when there were 6+ characters and location skips involved, so I'm very sorry. x.x Anyways, I'm done ranting about it, so gogogo and enjoy the chapter!)**

* * *

**-Quarter after Midnight, Saturday.-**

**Token Black: **After everyone had gotten on the flight and in their individual cabins with small beds, they were offered wine and other refreshments before they went to sleep. Or were supposed to go to sleep. Token was curled up on his bed, his cabin door unlocked in case someone needed him - he assumed if Clyde encountered a locked door, he would freak out, and then no one would get any sleep.

**Stan Marsh:** Stan had declined the wine because he was underage, and after the incident with Craig a few days ago, he didn't want to piss him off. With a sigh, he stared at the ceiling of the small compartment, wishing they were bigger so Craig could share one with him. ...Then he started to think - what was great about small spots? They could like, press against the walls like spiderman and do it in all sorts of positions. Straight-faced, he felt the plane regulating and he decided to get up and wobbly walked his way over to Craig's compartment, where he had seen the other go before. Unfortunately, it was right next to Token's, but who cared, right?

Opening the door he pressed his way inside, and then shut the door behind him.

"Craig, can I sleep on your bed?"

**Craig Tucker:** Craig had just settled into his bed when he hears Stan opening his door. Well everyone knew that was coming; he's not sure why Token even gave them separate rooms. "Yeah, come here," Craig says quietly, knowing Token will probably hear if he's any louder than that. Remembering Token's warning, he says right out, "But we're not having sex, so just come lay down." He pulls back the blanket for Stan to be able to crawl in.

**Clyde Donovan:** After finishing what seemed to be his third glass of wine, Clyde chuckled lowly to himself, giving the stewardess behind the counter and flirtatious wink. She didn't seem to like it that much, but Clyde knew deep inside she was dying to get with him. Maybe he'd try to win her over later. Getting up from his chair, the brunette wobbled down the walk way, heading over to what he remembered as his compartment. The plane hit a little turbulence, lasting only a few seconds, but that was enough to set him off. With panic strung on his face, the boy ran down the walk area, stumbling a bit on his way and threw the door of Craig's compartment open. "Oh my FUCKING God, Craig. Holy shit. The plane. It _moved_. Fucking let me stay with you tonight, oh my God." He dove right onto his Bro's bed, disregarding the fact that Stan was even there.

**Stan Marsh:** "...but it's a small space, oh my god. Why can't we have sex." Stan said as he felt the plane shake a little, and he walked over using the wall to balance himself so he could crawl in with Craig. Muttering angrily incoherently, he laid on top of the other under the blanket so they fit on the small bed.

"Token told you no didn't he." Stan said loudly.

When Clyde flung the door open, he nearly jumped through the ceiling- thinking it was Token.

"What the- no, Clyde, get off!" He yelled when the other climbed in - essentially topping him, squishing Craig.

**Token Black:** Token was just about to drift off when he heard the commotion starting. "It was too good to be true," He mumbled as he knocked on the wall lightly, and said loudly, "Keep it down, Craig."

**Craig Tucker:** Goddamnit, he knew this would happen one day, but I didn't expect it to happen on a fucking plane. Clyde is a monster cuddle whore, and so is Stan, so what the fuck is he supposed to do now? He can't very well tell either of them to leave. "Ugh, you guys, fucking seriously, if you're both staying in here, one of you needs to get off to the side because I'll suffocate like this," he says, deciding to just play it down instead of telling one of them to get the fuck out. They can just lay in here together without a problem, right? Probably not. But fuck, Craig really doesn't want to start an issue right off the fucking bat.

**Stan Marsh:** "I'm not moving," Stan grumbled stubbornly, feeling Clyde press on top him. His face was bright red in the dark, he was pinned, so he was sort of getting turned on but he was trying not to say anything about it. Maybe Craig wouldn't notice. That would be embarrassing.

"Clyde get the hell out," Not only did he press into him but he smelled like alcohol, goddamnit. What a bastard.

**Kenny McCormick:** The activity outside his cabin jarred Kenny from his very light sleep. Being like ten million miles over the ground was a bit worrisome for the blonde, especially given his reputation. He just returned from Hell, there was no way he wanted to go back. For a brief moment he thought about moving to sleep on top of Kyle, but he didn't want to wake him up if he was already asleep, and he definitely didn't want to move, so he rolled over and attempted to get comfortable again.

**Clyde Donovan:** "Brooo nooo." Clyde whimpered as he pulling Stan closer to him, thinking it was Craig. "I..I want..the plane moved." His words staggered ever now and then as he stffed his face closer to the both of them. His hand was awkwardly place next to Stan's private area, and being him, Clyde felt around and felt something hard. And because of that, the boy blurted out, "Dude! Oh my God. What..is that thing...Bro what the fuck's in your pocket? It's so HARD!"

**Token Black:** Knocking a bit louder on the wall, Token said, "Craig, Clyde, keep it down, damnit."  
Did he hear Stan's voice in there? He couldn't remember...god, if they were all in there...jesus christ, what were they doing?

He debated whether he would get up and check, but he decided to see if his knocking worked first.

**Kyle Broflovski:** Kyle was sitting on his bed, comfortably leaning his back on the plane's wall. With a book in hand, the boy studied its contents, smiling every now and then at the plot development. It was getting pretty late, but it didn't matter to him, he stayed up during the night anyways. Minutes passed and his hand was growing painful from holding the book. he set it down, staring at the dimly lit area before him and thought 'I wonder if Ken's still up..Perhaps? Well, either way, there's no hurt in checking on him.' And with that, he headed out into the main area of the plane, made his way to Kenny's compartment and gave a few quiet taps on the boy's door.

**Craig Tucker:** "Clyde, okay, what the fuck," Craig says, not wanting to even _know _what he's talking about. He reaches an arm up and none too gently tears Clyde off of them and to the side. If he falls off the bed, well, that's his problem. "Don't go feeling around for hard things just because you're afraid of the plane; that's not even a real excuse. The only reason I'm not going to beat your ass and kick you out is because you'll probably cry because the plane is scary or something. So just keep your mouth shut, keep your hands to yourself, and go the fuck to sleep."

**Stan Marsh:** Stan's heart started pounding when he felt Clyde groping him, and his face was so red he felt it burning. He wanted to elbow Clyde right in the face, but he was frozen where he was, trying to figure out how to react without having Craig react equally as bad. When Craig saved the situation and pushed Clyde off, Stan reached up and gripped Craig's shoulder, and then said, "I'm...going to go back to my cabin okay."

Having been molested by Craig's best friend, well...he wasn't feeling so horny anymore, despite his condition.

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny jumped the slightest bit from the unexpected knock. He wasn't near sleep, and had only been spacing out about nothing. Standing slowly, he moved to the door so he could peer around it when he opened it. Not everyone had to see him in only his boxers. Seeing Kyle there, he opened it the rest of the way with a tired smile. "Hey," Kenny greeted in a low voice.

**Craig Tucker:** "No," he says, keeping his arms locked around Stan. "I want you here, okay? Clyde is just like… a dog. You have to let him sleep at the foot of the bed once in a while," he says, fully aware that Clyde is still in the room. It's not the worst thing Craig has ever compared Clyde to, and he's drunk, so he figures it'll be just fine.

**Clyde Donovan:** "Ughh, whatever dude. S'not like...I..was touching anything bad. It was probably like some...toy or..." His voice trailed off as he was pushed to the side, feeling movement from underneath him. He looked at what he suspected to be the source of that movement and recognized the figure to be Stan. Squinting his eyes, he stared at the boy in confusion. When the fuck did that guy get here? Wait...Oh. "Oh my God. Bro, were you two like..fucking?" He paused for a moment. "Wait..what about dogs?"

**Token Black:** Hearing a thud, Token made an annoyed noise as he got up from his cozy bed and opened his cabin door. Walking over to Craig's, he opened it and saw Craig, Clyde and Stan all in the same tiny bed.

"For fucks sake, guys, it's a plane cabin for sleeping, not a fucking clown car. Stan, Clyde - out."

He pointed towards the hall, his eyes squinting because of the sudden change from the darkness of his cabin to the light of the hall.

"Out, now."

**Stan Marsh: "**But Craig..." Stan began, still flushed and his eyes averted even in the darkness. "This is...really uncomfortable...with him here.."

Then he heard Token's voice, and he grumbled, and as soon as Token demanded they leave he turned and said, "Fuck off Token, I'm staying. Mind your own business."

**Craig Tucker:** "No, Clyde, we weren't fucking, but thanks for checking before you knocked. Oh wait. You didn't knock," he says, shooting Clyde a half assed glare. Then Token opens the door, and the first thing he thinks is _great, another fucking one wants in my bed._

He's not sure if he's relieved or angry when he tells them to get out, but he decides not to comment on it. He doesn't exactly let his hold on Stan go, though.

**Kyle Broflovski:** Kyle noted the tired look on the boy's face, and calmly greeted the boy with a cheerful grin. "Hey ken, um, I'm sorry if I woke you up..But, can I speak to you for a moment?" His smile now trned into a more serious expression. Kenny had been gone for quite some time, and Kyle wanted some answers. Without any invitation, he moved the door open a little wider so he could slip in. He then eyed the boy, staying quiet for a few seconds before saying, "Is that alright with you?"

**Clyde Donovan:** Clyde scoffed, stuffing his face on the bed below him. He wasn't exactly sure where Token's voice was coming from, but he stretched out his hand and pathetically flipped him off, unknowingly shooting up two fingers. His hand dropped back down and he mumbled a, "Fuck you, bro," it was barely audible. The boy just stayed on top of the other, refusing to move and not really caring about what Token said.

**Craig Tucker: **"Alright, _mom_, if we promise to be quiet, can we have our slumber party?" Craig asks, his voice heavy on the sarcasm from his exhaustion with the situation and his actual tiredness. He just wants to fucking sleep, it's so late at night.

**Token Black:** "Fine." Token shut the door, glaring across the hall as he stood there for a moment. ...Clyde, Craig, Stan. His brain was trying to register what he just saw, but it was too painful and way too late.

He crawled back into bed in his cabin and shut his door - locking it this time.

**Kenny McCormick:** "Nah, I wasn't asleep," Kenny responded, scratching the back of his head and looking down to avoid the serious side of the expression. He raised an eyebrow across the hall as he slid the door shut, and turned to face the redhead. It suddenly felt a little uncomfortable that he had no pockets to shove his hands in to rid himself of the slight dread that came over him.

**Stan Marsh:** "Fuck. I'm going to sleep." Stan fumed in the sudden darkness, even though he still felt Clyde way too fucking close, and he was crammed into his position on top of Craig. Oh, and he was poking Craig, but it wasn't with a hand, which made his body hurt because he knew Clyde was there and it was embarrassing.

"Night, asshole," He said towards Clyde, and then added, "Night, Craig," So Craig knew that wasn't directed at him. He closed his eyes, hoping the drunk wouldn't put his hand down where it didn't belong again.

**Craig Tucker:** Craig just sighs and mutters a collective "Good night," before closing his eyes again, hoping this to be the end of their little episode. This is going to be a looong fucking trip.

**Kyle Broflovski:** With his arms placed firmly on his sides, Kyle shifted a little on his spot, figuring out how to word his question. Kenny looked a little off'd by his sudden entry, but he knew this talk had to happen at some point. With a drawn out sigh, the red head wrapped his arms around the blonde, refusing to break the hug for several moments. "Where were you, dude? You have no idea how worried I was. For all I know, you could have been lying dead somewhere...It's only been a couple of weeks, but really, it felt like decades had gone by."

**Clyde Donovan:** Clyde smiled foolishly, his eyes already closed and feeling a tired sensation over taking his body. He snuggled a little closer to the two, and said a joyful, "Night Bro, night mom." His hand somehow managed to go fall back onto Craig and Stan's supposed 'toy', but Clyde paid no attention to it. And with that, he found himself falling into a deep slumber.

**Stan Marsh:** Stan glowered in Craig's arms, and found his arousal slowly slipping away and replacing itself with deep anger. Stupid. Goddamn. Clyde. And he called him **Mom** - who the fuck calls - ...oh my god, Stan thought. He finally figured it out. Clyde was now their big annoying fucked up child who groped him occasionally. Stan hadn't had to deal with Clyde in this way yet, so he didn't realize how pissed off he could get when Clyde basically cockblocked him from good times with Craig. This whole trip was going to be one giant cockblock. Goddamnit. He would be awake for the rest of the flight, glaring off at a wall as Craig and Clyde slept.

**Craig Tucker:** Craig can't help but be internally amused but the fact that Clyde just called Stan _mom_. Stan hasn't actually ever hung out with Clyde, as far as Craig knows, so he has no idea how much a of a pain in the ass Craig's best bro really is. On the other hand, Craig is probably going to have to beat Clyde off with a stick once they actually get to France so he and Stan can have the alone time they want, but until then it's allowed to be funny. At the continues silence after their good nights, Craig settles back into his mattress, trying to get comfortable with Stan on top of his and Clyde plastered to his side, and finding that he actually can't move much. Well whatever, he's not _that _uncomfortable. He just sighs exasperatedly before letting himself fall to eventual sleep.

**Kenny McCormick:** Well, that was a pretty good guess. Kenny paused and laughed nervously, wrapping his arms around the other tightly. He let out a sigh, letting his nerves fly out of a window. Kyle deserved the truth. Maybe not the entire truth yet, but at least as to why he was gone in the first place. "I'm sorry. I needed to clear my head, I guess... Find out what was bugging me, beat myself into shape, you know? I needed time... I should have told you, but it was kind of spur of the moment. I didn't mean to make you worry." At least, he didn't think he meant to make him worry. He didn't really think it was his brain's fucked up way of saying he needed more attention. Being in Hell for those few long weeks gave him plenty of time to get the fuck over himself. Kenny sighed slowly again and pressed his lips to Kyle's forehead in another "I'm sorry."

**Kyle Broflovski:** It was nice to feel those familiar lips on his again, it was something he had grown to miss over the past few weeks. He let his own pair linger on the other's for several more seconds, taking in the feel of the moment. He almost forgot why he was here, but knew it was far more important than a kiss right now. Hesitantly breaking their moment, Kyle took a step back from the blonde, though his emotions were still set on his beloved McCormick. In a loving hush, the ginger spoke, "It's perfectly alright. We all need time to gather ourselves together, sometimes." He cocked a smile. "Just next time...don't put off my texts or calls. If you told me you needed some time alone, then I would have gladly let you. Then maybe next time I won't have to worry so much?"

**Token Black:** Token was lying on his back, thankful for the quiet. He stared at the ceiling though, now he was unable to sleep. He **always** was able to sleep. Oh no, what if seeing Craig, Clyde and Stan had cursed him to an eternity of restless sleep?

He wondered what Kyle was doing; then Wendy. There was no way he'd go knocking on either of their doors this late at night, though.

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny nodded and mouthed a "Sorry" with his apologetic expression. He didn't want to say anything else, because he really didn't want to get into where it was he went, and so he pulled the other back to him for another kiss. God, he had missed this more than he'd thought. And he already thought it was a hell of a lot.

**Kyle Broflovski:** As he was pulled back into another kiss, Kyle unknowingly wrapped his arms around the others neck; it had become such a second nature thing to do. His eyes were closed, taking in the moment to it's fullest and loving every second of it. Moments later, the ginger pulled away, meeting the other's gaze in silence. He smiled lowly, giving the other a look of reassurance and forgiveness. "Don't be," he breathed softly in reply to other. "We're finally with each other again, that's all that matters, Ken."

**Kenny McCormick:** The closeness and sweetness of the words had Kenny's heart fluttering and he held Kyle tighter. Why did he really feel the need to leave this spot in the first place? There was no reason for running and hiding. Not even to regather whatever it was that he lost. He was where he belonged and he knew that. "Hey," he said in a whisper, "I'm having trouble getting to sleep... Would you stay with me, tonight?"

**Kyle Broflovski:** His eyes were still locked on the other's, as were his arms, staying firmly wrapped around the blonde's neck. He let silence settle in, finding it rather intriguing for the moment. Then as if Kenny's words had just been spoken once again, Kyle tightened his grip around the other's neck, smiling sweetly and saying, "Of course." He was sure Token mentioned something about staying in your own room, or maybe he was just confusing himself. Either way, he wasn't about to let that simple rule get in the way of this night.

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny smiled happily in excitement and flopped himself down on the bed. Before laying down, he looked back to Kyle and after saying to himself, fuck whispering, he said , "I love you, Ky. Thank you," and opened his arms in an invitation for snuggles.

**Kyle Broflovski:** Kyle loved how up-beat Kenny was. The boy always managed to make him smile. Taking a couple of steps up to the bed, Kyle leaned down over Kenny, wrapping his arms around the other and pulling him close for snuggles. "Mmm, I love you to, Kenny. And no need to thank me." He closed his eyes, somewhat burrowing his face into the other's chest.

**Wendy Testaburger:** Wendy stretched lazily. The flight was long, and she'd managed to take a long nap. Private jets were certainly a luxury she wasn't used to, and she didn't want to waste the whole time sleeping. She just had wanted to disappear quietly while Stan and Craig went off and... did whatever it was they did. She meandered out of her compartment, trying to find Token.

**Token Black:** After an hour of staring at the ceiling, Token finally took out his phone and started doing work while lying on his bed. He swore he heard someone else talking, but it was too far off to tell - and it eventually stopped. Must've not been Stan and Craig - they sounded like a truck going through the compartments when they went at it. With a sigh, he got up and opened his cabin door - and he walked out into the hall to see if there was a flight attendant he could get a drink from. He spotted Wendy just moving from her compartment, and he smiled at the sight of her.

"Oh my god," He whispered, walking over to her as he pocketed his phone. "Did you hear that? I don't even want to know what they're doing in there."

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny's face found its way into the soft fluffy hair and he breathed a deep, quiet breath. "But I want to thank you," he said, finally getting comfortable as he let the thought of being so high up slip from his mind. "For putting up with my shit, and being here for me. I don't know what I'd do without you.." Being comfortable at this late at night was quickly catching up to Kenny, as his eyes fluttered and got heavy, beckoning sleep to take over.

**Wendy Testaburger:** "Just... I'd rather not think about it," Wendy replied, rolling her eyes. "Ugh." She grabbed Token by the wrist and started to wander in the opposite direction from Stan and Craig's compartment. "So what is there to do on a fancy plane like this? Or are we going to be forced to sit and watch whatever crappy movie they decide to play?" She laughed lightly, trying to force her mind off the topic of Stan and Craig.

**Token Black:** Allowing Wendy to take his wrist and drag him away with her, he continued smiling, though a bit less out of joy and more out of worry that she might tell him she planned on killing Craig and Stan. When she switched topics, he shrugged slightly as he said, "Well, I was just going to go get a glass of wine to see if it'd help me sleep...This is a really long flight, we're only two hours in."

**- At the vacation house - **

**Stan Marsh:** After Token had shown them to their rooms, Stan had quit staring at Wendy's back. It was noticeable, and he watched her go in her room on the opposite end of the hallway, and despite the beauty of Token's mystical vacation house - he was still distracted by Wendy. The minute she disappeared though, and Token had walked off, Stan grumbled to himself and dumped his bags on the floor. He glanced around the room, for the first time actually taking in how beautiful Token's parent's vacation house was. That bastard had it made. What a dick.

Digging through his bags, he pulled out a pajama set and then underwear, and his bath products. "I'm taking a fucking bath in the fucking jacuzzi tub in Token's fucking mansion of wonders, so if you want to fucking join me that'd be fucking great," Stan said, and then stalked off to the bathroom. Jesus christ it was beautiful.

**Craig Tucker:** Craig tries not to let it get to him that Stan had been staring at Wendy the whole fucking time they were being shown around, but it does. He knows he can't expect Stan to be completely over Wendy after they were together for so long, but fucking Christ, it still hurts to watch Stan stare like that.  
He drops his bags next to Stan's and doesn't really register that the other is talking until he hears "if you'd like to join me." He just responds with a "yeah" and follows Stan toward the Jacuzzi.

**Stan Marsh:** Getting inside, he dropped his stuff on the counter and started running the water once he figured out how to use the faucet. With a sour look on his face, he leaned on the huge tub, looking down at the gorgeous porcelain. Why was Token so rich. He was such a bastard - did money make him a bastard? Or would he be a bastard without cash? He took off his clothes and threw them on the floor - fuck that beautiful tile - and then climbed in once the water was a little bit warmer. There was enough room for like five people in this tub, what the hell.

"Hug me," He demanded moodily, leaning against the edge.

**Craig Tucker:** Craig strips and drops into the tub after Stan. "Why are you so moody?" he asks. He doesn't really sound angry, but he's starting to pick up on Stan's moodiness with his own. He shuffles through the water to be next to Stan and wraps an arm around him like asked.

**Stan Marsh:** Stan leaned on Craig, his eyes focused on the water splashing into the tub from the faucet. It was difficult to think of anything BUT Wendy and Token - how could he invite Wendy on this trip. She must be head over heels for him - look at this mansion. Why did it bother him, though? He loved Craig. Like really loved him - he couldn't feel anything else but love for Craig anymore, and sometimes it was overwhelming but he didn't care. Looking at Craig, he lifted his hand out of the water to run through Craig's hair - getting the other a little damp.

"Sorry," He said as he trailed his hand downwards, settling on the crook of Craig's neck. "I don't know, I was just...watching Wendy. And they were loud. I heard them talking on the plane, and it's frustrating because...I don't know, I don't care. I feel like I should care more, I look at her and I'm like, I should care that I spent six years with you, I think something should be there, or she should feel something there, but she moved just as quickly as I did, and it's like...six years. That's a long time, and I invested a lot into it...Like, I felt crushed after..."

He drifted off, letting his hand drifted off Craig and back into the water.

"But now, I'm sort of ...numb. And I don't know how to act around her. If I should be angry that what we had wasn't worth saving, or happy that we actually moved on quickly and found people we like more. I guess I'm upset because I don't know what to feel."

He wondered if it was the same for Craig with Tweek - he never asked. Maybe now was the time to.

"...did you feel that way with Tweek?"

**Craig Tucker:** Craig isn't really sure what he's feeling while Stan talks about Wendy, but he freezes when Stan asks about Tweek. Craig has really been avoiding feeling anything for Tweek. It depressed him a little when Tweek finally moved from 'boyfriend' to 'bro' in his mind, because he kind of misses Tweek. The fact that Tweek is indeed back in the 'bro' category is a good thing, though. It means that Craig's – God this is fucking cheesy – but it means that Craig's love is Stan's now.

But how to say that without making Stan think Craig still wants Tweek…

"Well, um, I don't really get like that. Not in the same way, anyways. I sort of ended things with Tweek because I thought he was ignoring me, but he wasn't. So the whole thing was like a big misunderstanding, so when he came back and I found out that he didn't even _know _we were over, it hurt like Hell because I realized that there wasn't even a reason for us to be over. But I was already with Kenny, so I couldn't just drop him on his ass, because I cared about him, but _fuck_, Tweek cried and I didn't know what to do. But then I started this thing with you, and I don't know… the regret with Tweek just kinda went away. Like now there's a reason we broke up, or something, because I love you, so… I guess the point of this is that no, I don't get that way anymore. Besides, he all but avoids me anyway, so it doesn't matter what I think."

He stops, not having even thought that much to himself about the matter before now. Tweek is avoiding him… That sucks. A lot. Craig still wants to be bros, because they were great fucking bros, but is that even possible? "Um…" he mutters, not exactly knowing what to say. "I love you," he sighs, not wanting to think about his lost brodom anymore.

**Stan Marsh:** "I love you too," Stan concluded, scooting over to sit extremely close to Craig, wrapping an arm around his backside to rest on his hip. Since they were sitting side by side, he wanted their hips touching as the water crept up the side, immersing them in it. Because the tub was huge, they probably could get it up to their chests before he had to turn the water off to avoid risking overflowing.

"Sorry if I made you upset with looking at Wendy...I was pissed at myself. Goddamnit, I haven't had to see her in awhile since school ended, and now...I don't know. It's impractical but I want my six years back and I know that's not possible but all those goddamn times thinking about her and all that pain and it's like, getting shots and never getting the fucking illness, you know?" He was rambling now, and he couldn't figure out why he was telling Craig about this, now, of all times. He should be all over Craig, not all over the topic of Wendy Testaburger, his ex-girlfriend.

"Goddamnit, I just want to snuggle for an hour. It sounds fucking girly, but I need it."

**Craig Tucker:** Craig does his best to ignore his own discomfort as he hugs Stan to himself. "Yeah," he agrees, not wanting to talk about Tweek _or_ Wendy, because neither are very happy topics for Craig. "It's fine."

**Stan Marsh: **After the tub was full, Stan turned off the water and slid back into Craig's arms, and leaned against him as they sat there. He glanced over after fifteen minutes of snuggling silence when he realized there was a panel with buttons. ...hmmmmmmm. Peculiar. Well, it was a jacuzzi, they were supposed to do stuff right? He reached over, not sure if Craig saw him dicking around with the control panel on the tub. He saw a button with a cyclone on it. His mind was instantly intrigued. Reaching over, he pushed it down, and then turned it up all the way.

"Holy shit," He grabbed onto Craig, realizing the whirlpool effect was on - it was enough to almost make them move from where they were sitting. Tiny bubbles were flying everywhere. "Oh my god, Craig, turn it off before it kills us," He yelled as he gripped onto the other.

**Craig Tucker:** Craig watches as Stan messes with the controls, not sure what the other is trying to do. When the water starts to move and Stan clings to him, he just raises both eyebrows in surprise. Well what the fuck; if Stan didn't know what he was doing, then why was he messing with it? Craig manages to reach the panel and turn the cyclone off, and switches on the jets. Not too high, but enough to make the water start to massage against their backs. "Better?" he asks.

**Stan Marsh:** "Oh my god, who the fuck wants a jet to go that high, a fucking masochist," Stan was still gripping Craig - maybe more out of wanting to cling onto him then having to. He scooted back over to Craig again, this time wrapping his arms around the others neck as he leaned against his shoulder.  
"...yeah, thanks." He said finally, figuring he should answer Craig's question. Then he said a bit more quietly, "...those jets really feel good."

**Craig Tucker:** "Does it feel as good as this?" Craig asks, bending his head down to kiss at Stan's neck. He's done with being upset over things they can't really help, and he just wants to be closer with Stan. After several warm kisses, he seals his lips to Stan's neck and begins to suck lightly, working toward marking Stan for the first time in several days. How long has it been, anyway? Way to damn fucking long.

**Stan Marsh:** Stan briefly thought of the conversation he had with Kyle, and he couldn't not be aroused. Craig was his vampire. That was awesome, in some sort of secret way because he didn't want to tell Craig that bit of information. He'd wonder what other kinky shit Stan was into - Stan really didn't want to be into 'roleplaying'.

With a smile he moved his neck so Craig could do more if he wanted. His hand drifted upwards to play with Craig's slightly damp hair.

**Craig Tucker:** Craig shifts when Stan opens himself up more. He drags Stan closer to himself with an arm around Stan's waist, wanting Stan to get in his lap. He suckles with more vigor at being encouraged, and moves to a different patch of neck. It's probably weird that he loves seeing his own hickies on Stan so much, but maybe it's just a possessive thing. …which is still weird. But he doesn't care, he just wants Stan to feel good, so that's what he works for.

**Stan Marsh:** Moving to Craig's lap, he pressed himself into Craig's lips gently, but sat there wondering why he liked giving him marks. It wasn't like Stan cared anymore, as long as his mother didn't see, and she wouldn't now that they had their own place.

"Why do you like making marks on me? Maybe I should just get a tattoo on my ass, 'Property of Craig Tucker', huh."

It was sarcastic, but in a playful way.

**Craig Tucker:** Craig grins against Stan's skin as he moves into his lap, the water sloshing gently around them as the jets continue to beat into them. He lets off Stan's neck for a moment to respond. "I like seeing the bruises, okay? But if you don't like it I won't do it; the whole point is because it's supposed to feel nice," he says, leaning to kiss under Stan's jaw instead, because maybe Stan really doesn't like it and Craig just assumed. Most people like having their necks manipulated like that, but then again, Stan isn't most people. He likes things like fucking hog ties and handcuffs.

**Stan Marsh:** "No, it's nice, keep doing it," Stan said a little hotly, as if Craig had taken away something from him by stopping. Leaning into Craig again, he put his hands behind him to feel Craig's sides as he sat on him. Then he got the idea to trail them downwards, and they ended up between his own legs, which led to him reaching past himself and to Craig, gripping him. With his dick in hand, he paused, realizing...well, the door to the bedroom was closed, but the bathroom door was wide open.

"...did you remember to lock the door."

**Craig Tucker:** He bites his own lip as Stan gropes him under the water. "Don't worry; we're in a giant ass new house, Clyde is too busy exploring to bother us," he says, knowing it's true. They'll probably have _just_ enough time to do whatever they're going to do before Clyde busts in. He moves back to Stan's neck again. He kisses it before biting into it lightly, pressing down with his teeth until he dissolves back into sucking on it instead.

**Stan Marsh:** "But, but..." He wanted to say 'the cockblock will know', but he didn't think Craig would appreciate him referring to his best bro as a cockblock. Even though that was what he was. Almost like Stan's hand being on Craig's dick would be a bat signal for Clyde - his cockblocking senses would tingle and he would fly through that unlocked door like his life depending on it.

Feeling Craig bite into his neck, he breathed in and tightened his hand on Craig - but then he said, "Damnit, Craig, he's going to walk in and then he'll be in here and I don't want to have the sex talk with Donovan."

**Craig Tucker:** "Stan, believe me, I know my best friend, okay? He's off having a jolly fucking time somewhere else right now, probably eating, and being a fool. So relax and just let me have my way with you in this Jacuzzi," he says lowly, coyly. He goes back in for another bite on the other side of his neck and rolls his hips up into Stan's. The water resistance makes his movements slower, though, so it turns into an agonizingly slow grind as he continues to rock his hips.

**Stan Marsh:** "Are-are you sure," Stan said, but that was before Craig rolled his hips into him. With a shudder, he felt the second bite. He moved his hand in a pumping motion under the water, but he felt it was a lot more difficult with the water there - almost like he had to push against another force just to do what he wanted.

"I swear to god if he cockblocks me again I'm going to kick him in the face," He stated in a rushed tone, his eyes closed.

**Craig Tucker:** "He's notorious for that; but I promise. He won't bother us until we're done," Craig says, his breath coming short as Stan pumps him under the water. The pumping, and the grinding, and the jets in his back, it's just all too much, and he wants nothing more than to fuck Stan. But never again will he do that without lube, _ever_, and he's not sure Stan would really appreciate… water… no, okay, maybe they can settle for less at the moment. He reaches his own hand down and takes Stan in hand. At their position, though, he takes himself as well, and holds Stan's hand with his own as he starts to pump them together. He bites down a bit harder on Stan's shoulder junction at the inane friction of their dicks rubbing together.

**Stan Marsh:** "Wait, what-" Stan was shocked at Craig grabbing his hand - and then forcing their dicks together, pumping at the same time. His eyes widened as he watched what Craig was doing with his hand for a second, but he was too aroused to complain, and his breathing was so erratic he thought it might be even more spontaneous than the jet streams pushing water around the tub. Then Craig bit him, and he couldn't keep his thoughts together anymore - he said shakily, "Harder," but didn't specify whether he wanted Craig to pump harder or bite harder. Either way, Stan was sure he would like the result.

**Craig Tucker:** Craig does both, biting down and pumping them with more fervor. After several minutes of mind bending friction, Craig can't take it anymore and he just wants Stan to come already so he can come too. "Mm, I love you, Stan," he manages to say, but it comes out more throaty than intended, laced with his pleasure. He latches onto Stan's neck one more time to try and hurry him along.

**Stan Marsh:** Stan was amazed he could actually hold on as long as he did - and with another shudder, he felt himself release, and he breathed a bit heavier as he tried to regain some sort of composure. It wasn't foreseeable in the near future, though, because Craig still had his hand down there - he didn't want to discourage him because he wanted him to get off too. In an afterthought, he decided maybe he took longer now because of the water; and then his brain automatically thought, 'no, probably the fear of Clyde bursting through the door is doing it.'

"Craig," he said breathlessly, feeling him bite into his neck.

**Craig Tucker:** He's not actually sure if Stan came or not because the jets make feeling things in the water a little harder to do, but with the way Stan said his name, Craig can't hold on any longer and he comes as well. He spares a thought for whoever the poor soul is that's going to have to clean out this Jacuzzi, but he lets it go to lean into a hot kiss. He brings up both hands to tangle in Stan's hair and pulls him in close by it to battle tongues.

**Stan Marsh:** He couldn't tell if Craig had gone, but he felt the other shifting his hands from down there to up into his hair. Feeling his hair be tugged on, he turned to meet Craig's mouth, but only for a second before he pulled away, moving in the tub a bit before he turned towards Craig. "Wait," He said, trying to regulate his breathing. Maybe it was because he didn't sleep on the flight - he felt a little off. But Craig didn't know he didn't sleep on the flight. And that he stayed up all night texting Kyle.

"Just...okay, let's call that the end, ok? I'm not feeling good," Stan commented, realizing his heart felt like it was jumping in his throat, and not in the good way. Was it possibly to have a heart attack at seventeen? No...he never heard of something like that. Either way, he got up from the tub, and climbed over the edge.

"Just...didn't sleep well on the flight. ...or at all."

**Craig Tucker:** Craig is a bit thrown off when Stan abruptly pulls away from their kiss. Who needs Clyde to interrupt when he just stopped like that? Instead of letting it get to him – or trying not to – he turns and asks, "Why didn't you sleep?" he asks. He knew Stan was upset that Clyde interrupted, but it's not like they were going to have sex anyway, that night. And Craig held Stan all night instead of Clyde, so it's not like Stan had a reason to be jealous or something. Despite what he wants, he gets out of the tub as well.

**- Basement Wine Cellar at Vacation House -**

**Token Black:** As everyone settled in their rooms, Token walked off down the steps to the wine cellar. He really, really wanted a drink. He wasn't dependent on it- but the alcohol in France was better than in the US, and he really wanted to taste it again. Especially the strong stuff. He wasn't proud of this need though, so he didn't want to invite anyone with him as he descended down the staircase from the upstairs, to the kitchen, and then down into the basement gallery where the gameroom was. Further in, there was another spiral staircase to the cold cellar. He gave a sigh of relief as he plugged in the code for the cellar door, and then disappeared down the staircase, leaving the door open.

"What do I want tonight..." He moved along the wall of drinks, and then pulled out a bottle. Strange, he didn't remember seeing something like this before. Chartreuse? Huh, weird. He walked over to the table in the middle of the room to unscrew the top, and pulled out a glass.

"Let's try this," He muttered to himself, and sipped out of the crystal glass. Hmm, that was strong - he wondered what the alcohol content was on this unlabeled bottle of 'chartreuse'. It was strange that it didn't have any other markings than the name...something told him maybe he shouldn't drink it, but it was so good.

**Kyle Broflovski:** He could hear the faint sound of the others chatting away and setting things up in the other rooms. Kyle, himself, hadn't packed much, so fortunately for him there wasn't much time spent on origination. The boy sat on the end of the bed, surfing through the contents of his bag, only to notice an item missing from it. "Goddamnit..." He let out a heavy sigh. "I forgot to pack my phone charger. Um? I'll be back in a bit. Alright Ken? I'm going to see if Token has an extra." He lightly threw his bag off to the side, walking out the door right afterwards.

The place was huge, where was he supposed to find Token? He could be in his chosen room, but knowing the guy, he was probably up and about somewhere in the house. Kyle decided to descend down the staircase, working his way further through the house until he came across the cellar door. It was left open, so someone was definitely in there. He entered, thought tapping lightly on the door to notify the person of his presence. "Um, hey, Token? You in here?" and to his luck, the boy was standing right there, drinking what seemed to be, wine.

**Token Black:** "Oh, Kyle," Token said with a smile, his body feeling warm already from the drink. Wow, this was good stuff. But he wondered vaguely if he should be worried about the alcohol content...Throwing caution to the wind, he grabbed another glass from the shelf nearby and poured Kyle a drink, and walked over to the other and held it out.

"Try this, it's great. Uh, what did you want?" He took another drink from his glass, possibly a bit too quickly.

**Kyle Broflovski: **"Oh..." Kyle took the glass hesitantly from the other's hand, looking at it questionably and swirling it around in the cup a little bit. "This is wine, isn't it? I'm not usually one for alcohol.." He trailed off, still eyeing the dark colored liquid in his hand. Perhaps a little wouldn't hurt, after all, he was on a trip and it was France. How could one spend a vacation there and not drink wine? Yeah, he might as well try it at least. Kyle brought it up to his mouth, taking a fairly decent sized sip, quickly savoring its unique and wondrous taste. "Wow, this is actually pretty great wine, dude."

**Token Black:** "Yeah, it's "Chartreuse". I'm not sure if I've ever heard of that..." He let the end of the sentence get away from him as he stared at the glass. He was starting to feel..not all there. Almost as if his thoughts were getting away from him. Shrugging off the feeling, he sipped it again, and then took another decent sized drink from the glass. That was his point of no return.

"Hey, Kyle," He said after a moment, giving the other a flash of his white teeth as he smiled, "So what are your thoughts on casual sex?"

**Kyle:** "No, I haven't." Kyle quickly drank up the rest of the wine, reaching over to the bottle and pouring himself another cup. This wine was quite favorable and strong, and for some reason he just loved it. Taking a sip from his newly filled cup, he looked up at Token, giving him a face layered with slight confusion. Why would Token ask such a question? Though, the two had done some strange stuff together already, so telling Token his opinion couldn't hurt. "Well, I don't know. I guess if it's alright with both people, then it's fine."

**Token Black:** "I agree fully..." Token watched Kyle go for the bottle, and he did the same once Kyle's hand left it. He did note that their hands briefly touched on the way for the unintended exchange, and he smiled as he poured some more in his glass and swished it around.

Setting the bottle back down, he sipped from his glass again. "You know, I also agree with the idea that we would probably be really hot together. Not that it'd happen, but it's plausible."

**Kyle Broflovski:** Quickly finishing his second cup, Kyle fumbled a little when trying to grasp the bottle. His mind felt a little dazed, but whatever right. He was fine, perfectly fine and not close to being drink at all-sort of. His friends knew he couldn't handle alcohol easily, but always failed to tell him straight. Kyle smirked at Token's comment and replied with a slight slur, "Mmm, yehah..but dude that's like..so not going to happen. Unless we were both fucking drunk off our asses. Aha..." He took another sip from his glass.

**- Clyde's Room at Vacation House -**

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny, having been completely taken aback by the estate, stayed put in the room he and Kyle had been given. It felt like he could fit his entire house within the span of less than two rooms, and it sort of left him feeling nervous. Not to a Tweek level, but definitely enough to get him to sit on the bed and stare around the room for quite a while. When he finally felt like he could handle it, he stood back up and moved out into the hallway to duck into Clyde's room, not bothering to knock. "Hey, dude, can you believe this place? I'm hoping Ky didn't get lost or anything."

**- Basement Wine Cellar at Vacation House -**

**Token Black:** "Oh, right. But I'm feeling drunk right now..." Token said as he set his glass down, watching Kyle go for a third. His hands seemed really unsteady, and there was a part of Token that wanted him to keep drinking - the other part was screaming, 'This is a BAD idea, what are you doing, make him stop!' But against his better judgment, he walked around the table, and plucked the glass from Kyle's hand, and put it on the table. He moved Kyle gently against the table, so the other was pinned in as he leaned in close. With a voice that was low and sultry, he locked his gaze with Kyle's and whispered; "_Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir, Kyle?_"

**- Clyde's room at Vacation House -**

**Clyde Donovan:** Clyde was slouched over on the end of his bed, reading what seemed to be a french issue of some porn magazine. He smiled inwardly to himself, taking in the fascinating sights of boobs. He heard his door open, not bothering to look up to who it was. Though once the stranger voiced himself, Clyde knew who it could be. Still looking at the magazine, he responded with, "Yep. This place is nice-" He caught the site of some pretty large breast. "...and big. But whatever man. Kyle's like a smart ass or something. He's not gonna get lost."

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny crossed over to him and pulled the magazine from his hands. He quirked an eyebrow at it and flipped through some more of the pages. "Well, I don't know. I want to go find him and check out more of this place." He tossed the magazine back, making sure Clyde's page stayed open. "Care to join me?" In all honesty, he himself didn't want to get lost and end up in a situation that would result in yet another death. Dying was definitely not on his to-do list during this trip.

**- Basement Wine Cellar at Vacation House -**

**Kyle Broflovski:** "Are you now?" Kyle's eyes were fixated with Token's dark pupils. Usually he'd be voicing out his moral values and curses almost every other word...but this time he felt different, much different. He leaned in close to the other, taking in every sound, every word, every syllable of Token's words. He smirked, feeling wound up from the sweet sound of French and quietly replied. "Hm, oui. Si on allait dans un endroit un peu plus calme?"

**- Hallways of Vacation House -**

**Clyde Donovan:** Clyde pouted a little at the sudden loss of his magazine, but it was Kenny. It was bound to happen anyways. He grinned childishly at the blonde. Exploring sounded like a good idea, maybe Token's place has some sort of unknown passage way. That'd be cool. "Dude, totally. I'm so in the mood for an adventure right now, like you don't even know." In the spur of the moment, Clyde hopped off his bed and was already waiting by the door, completely disregarding the return of his magazine. "Bro, c'mon! Let's get going." He gestured for Kenny to hurry up.

**- Basement Wine Cellar at Vacation House -**

**Token Black:** "Plus calme?" Token chuckled as he moved closer, and being a few inches taller than Kyle he leaned in so his breath would roll against the other's skin. His eyes were half lidded as he gazed at the other, his hand drifting from his side to Kyle's chest - then he ran his hand up the other's shoulder to the back of his neck.

"It's so quiet in here..." His eyes flicked from Kyle's chest to his eyes again, "That I can hear your heart beat in my head and it's _driving me __**insane**_."

He leaned in and he pressed their lips together with some force, then backing away to look him in the eyes, his gaze intense as he gave him a look of seriousness as he said, "I like how we've already melded our great minds together, Kyle...I know I'll like how our bodies meld together after we remove our clothes. Should I help you undress?"

**- Hallways of Vacation House -**

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny was a bit taken aback at Clyde's sudden excitement in tagging along, but it was Clyde, so it should be expected. He noted that the brunette reminded him of a puppy as he smiled and passed him on the way back out of the room, and he started down the hall in the direction he assumed was to rooms like the living room and kitchen. Though at this point, Kenny was convinced there was more than one of each of these rooms.

**- Basement Wine Cellar at Vacation House -**

**Kyle Broflovski:** He shivered; Token's ever so warm and wine scented breath heaving close to his exposed skin. Oh how wondrous it felt. Kyle closed his eyes for a moment's time, sinking into the deep satisfaction of having one, such as Token, pressing his perfectly chiseled lips against his own. In a way, it felt much like fiction, like it wasn't reality, but Kyle knew better. Once Token backed away from their kiss, Kyle stared longingly at the boy, all his sense of values and morals drifting off into a haze. He cocked a brow, smiling deviously and replied in a sweet yet alluring manner saying, "Oui, s'il vous plait? I don't think I can do it alone."

**- Hallways of Vacation House -**

**Clyde Donovan: **Feeling quite proud of himself for no reason at all, Clyde playfully walked along side of Kenny. He wasn't really in the mood for finding Kyle or anyone, really. Clyde just wanted a reason to go about the house without having Token on his back about every little thing he did. What the hell would he do anyways? Set the place on fire? Get all of them abducted by some weird alien shit? Use one of the rooms for a giant, French orgy-okay, maybe he'd do that. But it's not like he'd destroy the room from doing that. Well, whatever.

"So, dude. Have you tried any of the like French food yet? It's fucking sweet, bro. I think there's some in that kitchen." Without any regard to where Kenny was set on going, the brunette pulled the boy into the kitchen and quickly threw open the fridge. "Oh yes, oho.~ This is the life right here, man."

**- Basement Wine Cellar at Vacation House -**

**Token Black: **A crooked smile formed on Token's lips, his free hand drifting down to the hem of Kyle's shirt. Pulling it upwards he removed it from Kyle's body and tossed it on the wine table. He trailed his hands down from Kyle's chest to his stomach, then stopped at his waistline, resting on his belt. Somewhere inside him he felt like this was criminal- but he just wanted to get Kyle's pants off now. He leaned in to steal another kiss before he unbuttoned Kyle's jeans.

**- Hallways of Vacation House -**

**Kenny McCormick: **Kenny confirmed his suspicions about Clyde being a puppy, but followed him anyway. "Nah, I haven't tried anything, yet. I'm not really hungry, though." It was almost the truth. Kenny hadn't eaten in quite a long time, but was something he was used to, so he wasn't feeling the hunger, yet. He gazed around the kitchen for a while before noting aloud, "Does it feel kind of quiet to you? Like... I don't know, something feels like it should be happening, because it's such a big place, but everything's so still." Without waiting for an answer, Kenny wandered off, half remembering why he wanted to explore in the first place, and half because he just wanted to keep exploring.

**- Basement Wine Cellar at Vacation House -**

**Kyle Broflovski: **Kyle silently gasped at the sudden contact of the cold air hitting his chest and back. He could feel light stings of chills settling along his now bare skin. But paying less attention to it, his hands made their way to Token's broad shoulders only to be caught in an enchanting kiss, once again. The boy moaned softly, savoring the pleasurable contact between Token and him. His hands slid down from the other boy's shoulders, feeling their way to Token's dress shirt. Immediately, he began unbuttoning it until it was completely undone.

**- Hallways of Vacation House -**

**Clyde Donovan: **With a piece of cheese stuffed in his mouth, Clyde looked over at Kenny in surprise. How could one not be hungry in a place like France? This was like, the kingdom of good food. But, oh well. It was his decision. "Suit yourself dude. But like, really. This shit is...it's...Well, it's the shit. Let's just go with that." He eyed the fridge, looking around for anymore mouthwatering goodies, but his concentration was ruined once Kenny noted how quiet it was. With a heavy groan, the boy said, "Bro, they're probably all sleeping or something. It's night. What? Do you want a party to happen?" By the end of his talk, Clyde had notice that the blonde had gone missing from the kitchen. He didn't really care, but he didn't want to end up exploring alone. So he slammed the fridge close and ran after Kenny. "Dude, not cool. You don't just leave a bro like that."

**Kenny McCormick: **"I didn't leave you, I just knew you would follow." Kenny kept walking, like he felt there was a purpose behind it. "Even if it's night, this is a big ass place, I'd expect something to be happening. A party doesn't seem like a bad idea. I mean, fuck, we aren't in Colorado anymore." He stared around at various vases and pieces of artwork and started to wonder how the hell anyone could possibly afford all this. He wasn't going to ask himself this, but he couldn't help it. The one vase sitting on this singular table probably cost more than Kenny's family ever had and ever would spend on living expenses. Kenny was really trying not to be slightly freaked out by it. He took a turn at one point, and noticed an open door that led down some stairs. He really wasn't interested in going down them, but curiosity had him calling, "Ky, you down there?"

**Clyde Donovan: **"No way, you totally left me," he said, trying to defend himself. "Yeah, a party would be awesome, dude. We should throw one like tomorrow night or something." He idly followed the blonde over to the door, not really caring for what or who may be inside. The boy just looked around the hallway, finding the artwork and all that crap to be pretty weird. Like, what kind of paintings were these? They looked like colorful blobs and scribbles. But whatever, right? People are weird, so it makes sense. He then peered inside the open door, not because he was curious or anything, just for the heck of it. He couldn't really see much, so he said, "There's nothing down there. Kyle is probably like in the bathroom or something...taking care of his...hair...I don't know...What does that guy even do...?"

**Kenny McCormick: **Kenny made a sound of disinterest and walked on. "Study, read." Kenny put his hands in his pockets and one instinctively wrapped around his lighter. He had to fight the second habit of flicking it on, considering it was in his jeans and he didn't want to be set of fire. "He could be in the shower or something, I don't know. He was looking for a charger. Man, I need a smoke. Where's a door to this place?"

**Clyde Donovan: **"That's lame." He commented back, not paying much attention to where he and Kenny were going. "A charger? Yeah, I wouldn't know where he'd go to get that. Probably went out to a store or something or what you said. Shower. Yep." He paused for a moment, remembering Kenny saying something about smoking and a door. Oh, he wanted to know where the front door was, right? Clyde tapped his finger on his chin, thinking of where that door could be. "Door..door...Wait!...No, I've got nothing. You could like hop out the window, maybe. Not sure how high up we are though."

**- Basement Wine Cellar at Vacation House -**

**Token Black:** Keeping his eyes on Kyle's green ones as he unbuttoned his dress shirt, Token smiled coyly again, his eyes narrowing mischievously as he unzipped Kyle's jeans. Every time his thoughts tried to reason with him - _wait, Kyle's dating Kenny_ - powerful emotions replaced it with, _look how flushed Kyle is right now, it's so enticing_. Logically he knew this was wrong on so many levels, but his fingers were brushing against Kyle's pale skin, and the way the other was moaning, it sent pleasurable chills through Token. He could feel his own body reacting to Kyle's touch, and it was hard to concentrate on pushing Kyle's jeans down his narrow hips, sliding his hands to his lower back.

Then Token heard Kenny. It seemed like a blur - like someone had been talking, but he couldn't really focus. For a moment, he was distant as he looked towards the spiral staircase, and through his drunken stupor he realized just what he was doing, where he was, how his hands were now on Kyle's backside. But it didn't connect that this was bad - however he did say, "Who's there?"

**Kenny McCormick:** "I'm not gonna climb out a window, dude," Kenny said with a roll of his eyes. He also wasn't about to smoke inside this pretty ass house, either, though. It just didn't seem right, so he wouldn't do it without asking Token. Wait... Had he heard Token? Kenny moved back to the door. "Sorry, man, I was looking for Kyle. He was looking for you, have you seen him?" He pulled his lighter out of his pocket and flicked it a few times.

**Kyle Broflovski:** "What..?" Although he was pretty sure Token had called out to someone, Kyle's hands crept around the boy's well build waist. He then hushed the other and pulled the boy towards him, landing into another kiss, this time making it quite passionate. His hands lightly tightened around Token, refusing to tear them away for whatever reason.

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde pouted; jumping out the window seemed like fun. How come Kenny had to go around ruining his awesome ideas? Well, it's his loss. The brunette moved back to the door, wondering what was up and feeling confused due to the lack of attention he had been paying the door. "Oh, wait Token's down there? Dude, let's go down."

**Token Black: **Opening his mouth to respond, Token felt Kyle's hands creep up around his waistline, and he smiled as he turned his attention back to the ginger-haired boy. With their lips connected, he pressed his hands - cupping the other's ass cheeks in order to pin his front side against him, forcing them together. His tongue found its way into Kyle's mouth, exploring it thoroughly as he caressed his skin with his fingertips.

**Kenny McCormick: **Kenny waited for a response that never came, and called out Token's name questioningly. He huffed at the sense of being ignored. "You go ahead, first, so you can catch me if I slip and fall." He tossed and caught his lighter and gestured Clyde onward to go first down the steps.

**Clyde Donovan: **"What? Ugh, fine, bro." He began to descend down the stairs, quickly finding his way to the unknown room. Once inside, he called out, "Bro! So Kenny and I were talking and do you think we could throw a-" He cut himself off, staring blankly at the scene before him. Was that...Token and...Kyle? Making out and doing assgrabs? Oh God it was. Clyde felt a little part of his soul die and quickly turned and ran back up the stairs, in hopes of finding Craig. As he ran, he passed by Kenny, not even paying attention to him and shouting, "CRAIG. OH MY GOD. TOKEN. HE'S. WHAT. I DON'T FUCKING UNDERSTAND."

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny stood quite confused for a few seconds. What the fuck was he freaking out about? Well... It was Clyde. He'd freak out about anything. So Kenny shook his head and continued down the stairs, slightly distraught that his safety net was now gone. He silently hoped he wouldn't lose his footing. "Weirdo. Anyway, Token, have you seen Kyle? It's been a while since he went looking for you and- And..." Kenny's expression went from passive to completely fallen. He dropped his lighter and stared at the two by the table. He stared daggers at the one who's hands were all over Kyle- HIS Kyle's ass, and he took two quick, deep breaths so that he could contain his sudden urge to throw fists. Turning on a stair, and too stunned to be impressed that he didn't fall yet, climbed back up them. "Sorry to bother you."

**Kyle Broflovski: **He knew that voice. It was one he had heard almost every day of his life since elementary...it was..."Kenny?" Kyle had pushed Token away slightly, staring off to where he thought the voice was coming from. And there he was, the skinny, young blonde Kyle had grown to love over a matter of days. He looked back at Token, feeling flustered about the whole thing and not to mention quite shocked. His hands dropped from the boy, limply falling to Kyle's sides. "...Augh, fuck. Why the fuck..." His words stilled sounded slurred from how intoxicated he was. "Goddamnit, Kenny. That isn't...it's...it's not what it looks like...well...it was but. Fuck..."

**- Hallways of Vacation House -**

**Token Black: **Seeing first Clyde freak out, and then Kenny retreat- Token's brain was starting to register his long abandoned morals. He immediately removed his hands from Kyle, backing away with his hands up.

"Ken- Kenny, come back, we're both drunk off our asses," Token called out, trying to explain but failing to give a decent one. He looked at Kyle, and then averted his eyes and put one hand up to shield them from looking at him nearly naked. "Kyle, put your clothes back on...Kenny, wait," He walked after Kenny, though a bit sluggish and definitely uncoordinated. He ascended the stairs, and caught Kenny's arm. "Kenny, wait, it's not Kyle's fault - Kenny, listen, we drank too much..."

**Kenny McCormick: **Kenny ripped his arm away, but caught himself before he did something about it. "Don't. Touch me." There was so much he wanted to say, to yell, to accuse at him, and he would have, if he was at ALL familiar with where he was. And he was grateful to him for getting him all the way out here, but Kenny's mind was exploding and swimming and he felt like he could claim being ten thousand times as drunk on emotion. "I'm just- I'm not-" Kenny swore and started to walk away again.

**Token Black: **Normally Token would have taken that seriously, but right now he was taking it at face value; he couldn't process beyond trying to throw himself into fixing what he just did even if now wasn't the time to fix it.

"Kenny, wait, listen. I was drinking Chat-Chatre-...Chatreuuus, oh, whatever the hell it was, it was potent and I didn't realize it, I gave it to Kyle, I'm sorry, I know I'm drunk Kenny, I can't think of anything right now in depth but I know I'm really, really sorry, I'm so sorry Kenny, please, I'll leave to my room - just take care of Kyle okay, I'll stay away, I'm sorry, I couldn't control myself, it's all my fault, I made advances on Kyle..."

He stumbled after the other as they reached the top of the steps, his mouth slightly agape with horror at his own actions and Kenny's insistence to keep walking as he pleaded with him; his shirt was still unbuttoned however so it made him feel even guiltier.

"Please Kenny, listen, I'm really sorry. I'm really sorry, just stop. We can talk this over."

**Kyle Broflovski: **Kyle did up his pants and put his shirt back on. It was somewhat of a challenge, but he managed to get on..backwards. Whatever, it's not like anyone would care. He eyed the now almost empty wine bottle, cursing at it under his breath. He shouldn't have drank it, he should have just left once he saw Token drinking it. But there was no room for hindsight right now. He walked over to Token and Kenny's general area, only to see the blonde leaving once again after Token's plea of forgiveness. Kyle sighed heavily, and caught up to Kenny, grabbing him by the shoulder. He gripped it tight, his face becoming quite serious as he did. Kyle then turned the boy around and stared him dead in the eye and said, "Kenny, I am...I'm so sorry okay? This wasn't supposed to happen, fuck this is why drinking sucks ass. Goddamnit, I'm sorry okay?" He stopped for a brief moment. "I fucking love you, okay Ken?"

**Kenny McCormick: **Normally by now, Kenny would feel bad for making someone feel so bad, but... but.. Fuck, he was pissed. He was stretching and tensing the muscles in his hands in a stress-ball sort of manner, and he rolled his eyes when he was caught. Refusing to meet eye contact, he mumbled an "Okay," but that was all. At this point, he just wanted to go smoke his entire pack of cigarettes. At once.

**Token Black: **"Just fuck. Fuck. Fuck, I'm sorry." Token said as he felt a wave of dizziness wash over him from moving so fast. With a hand on his head, he let out an irritated sigh as he walked in a wobbly line past Kenny and Kyle, hurrying out of the game room and up to the upstairs- stumbling and tripping up the steps, but nonetheless eventually reaching his room and slamming the door shut.

**Kyle Broflovski: **"Augh, fuck all this..." He watched Token move past the two of them only to disappear from sight once he was past the games room. Kyle let out a tragic groan, putting his hands against the front of his head. To him, the world still felt a little hazy and blurred, but he knew what had just happened was far from fiction. He looked back at Kenny, frowning with shame and mumbled quietly, "So...you probably don't want to share a..uh...a...room? Yeah...a room with me right now. I'll just...um...fuck it. I'll find someplace else. I'm so sorry Kenny." He didn't bother giving the boy a smile, knowing it wouldn't help with the situation. So with that, he started to walk off to the games room.

**Kenny McCormick: **Kenny grabbed one of Kyle's arms and pulled him back with a "No." He held him protectively to his chest. "You're staying with me. I know, Ky. It's okay.." Kenny still questioned himself as to if it was actually okay, but like anything, it would blow over... He did know it was a mistake, and he was just glad he'd stopped it from going farther than it had. And that Kyle was genuinely honest and apologetic. He sighed into Kyle's hair and his grip tightened around him.

**Kyle Broflovski: **Kyle gave Kenny such an apologetic look. How could he just forgive him so quickly? He knew the forgiveness Kenny felt was only half of what he supposedly felt. The other half being angry, distraught and not to mention, well beyond pissed. The ginger furrowed his brows in disbelief, but felt the need to agree for Kenny's own comfort. "It's not okay, I know it isn't..." He looked off to the side. "Let...me make it up to you somehow. What do you want, anything is fine."

**- Outside of Vacation House, Nighttime -**

**Stan Marsh: **After their bath, Stan grabbed one of the abnormally fluffy towels from the towel rack near the tub and started drying himself off. That's when he realized he heard someone outside the door. He barely had five seconds before Clyde rushed in, and he used it to wrap the towel around himself. Goddamnit - Clyde was really pissing him off. As Clyde walked in to talk with Craig, Stan rushed out to get dressed in the room - he put on his jeans and a t-shirt and socks, then slipped his shoes back on and walked out. He had made sure to snag his cigarettes and lighter, but left his phone in his bag.

God, he needed a smoke, really fucking bad. He walked out without telling Craig where he was going - he seemed occupied with Clyde, so Stan figured it wasn't necessary to inform him. Walking out to the front of the house, he sat on the large porch and looked at the garden in the front. Fucking Token.

**- Hallways of Vacation House -**

**Kenny McCormick: **Kenny shook his head. It was okay, but no, it most certainly wasn't. But... His mind flipped over and over the situation and he barely registered the suggestion. "Hmm? I don't know... I.. Well..." He hated to admit it, but Kyle seemed pretty.. 'bothered.' But he'd never just ask for that; it wasn't his choice and he made sure of that. He was not going to take advantage of the apology- not to mention Kyle being drunk- to do something Kyle might not have been ready for. "..Nah. It's alright.. I'm just aching for a smoke."

**Kyle Broflovski: **He frowned, wishing he could have at least done something to make it up to Kenny. Though, he wasn't sure anything could. Kyle ran his hand through his red locks, still feeling more than upset about what had happened. "Are you sure...? Because it can be anything you want...and...uh..stuff." He was having a little trouble finding the right words to say; it bugged him, but he tried to ignore it. Shifting a little uncomfortably on his spot, he then said, "I guess...I could go back to the room if you want to smoke for a bit. It's uhm...it's fine with me."

**Kenny McCormick: **"Alright," Kenny agreed, giving him a kiss on the forehead. "Just don't run away again, okay..?" He gave a smile of reassurance that everything would be alright, and he turned to the direction of what he was pretty sure was the front door. Pulling out his pack on the way, he was proud of himself for going the right way and stepped outside. He wasn't shocked to see Stan, and he just pulled out one of the cigarettes with his mouth and reached for his lighter. He groaned when he found it wasn't there. There was no way he was going to go all the way back to get it where he had dropped it. "Spare a light, dude?" Kenny directed at Stan.

**Kyle Broflovski: **"Ah, I won't. I can promise that." He half-heartedly smiled, giving Kenny a look of reassurance to back up his words. "See ya." He waved a short goodbye and headed back to the room, stumbling and still feeling a slight haze as he went. Once he was back to the room, he flopped down face first on the bed and tried to get some sleep.

**- Outside of Vacation House, Nighttime -**

**Stan Marsh: **Stan heard someone exit, but he was already halfway through his first cigarette. His eyes were focused on a particular shrub in the garden - how did someone keep a shrub so...trim? He thought of all the yard work at his parent's house, how he always had to do the lawn, and how much work it was. And Token could just pop a can of soda and watch the gardener work. Goddamnit. Half paying attention to whoever said 'spare a light' - he took out his lighter and turned and finally witnessed who was standing there.

"Oh, hey Kenny." He said as he held out the lighter, offering it to him. Puffing on his cigarette with his other hand, he glared off towards the garden again. "Fucking Token." He didn't realize he said it out loud though, so he wasn't expecting Kenny to respond.

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny thanked him and forcefully flicked it on, and after lighting his cigarette, let out an agreeable, "Fucking Token," with the smoke he exhaled. How could he not be mad at Token? He'd never been able to stay mad at Kyle, but Token? His head was still doing flipsy tricks around what he'd just had to stop.

**Stan Marsh:** He exhaled again, enjoying the smell of nicotine hanging in the air. But then his brain started processing as to what Kenny just said, and he realized he had just agreed with him that Token was a fucker. What? No one agreed with Stan on this - he thought he was alone with his dislike for Token. Turning to Kenny with a shocked look on his face, he said, "Wait, what? What did Token do to you?"

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny hissed out more smoke. "More like-" what he did to Kyle. But Kenny wasn't going to say it. At least, not yet. He settled in a groan. "Nevermind. I'm not in the mood to talk about it." Some part of him wanted to, but this shit JUST happened. Kenny had to stop himself from biting his cigarette in half at the thought. "What about you?"

**Stan Marsh:** "No, you first, what did Token do?" Stan asked in disbelief. Maybe Kenny was just playing with him - Token didn't seem like the type to piss off Kenny. What could he possibly have done? Mostly, Stan just wanted another reason to hate Token - right now his hate for him he couldn't back up with anything besides being jealous.

"Like, did he...okay, I can't even think of what he could have done. What did he do?"

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny rolled his eyes and looked in the other direction. Why the fuck would he tell Stan, anyway? He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and used it to point at him. "You can't fucking tell anyone. It's already going to spread quickly because of fucking Clyde, but you're not allowed to say I said anything. Got it?" Kenny gave him a look of 'Dude, I mean it, or I'll beat your ass.' "I found- or, caught him- with Kyle in his damn magical wine cellar, Kyle half undressed, and his hands all fucking over him." The anger he had done well to hide before was renewed with actually telling the story, and he lit a second cigarette before his first was finished. It was almost finished, but not quite finished.

**Stan Marsh:** "...he did what."

Stan blinked several times, trying to take in what Kenny just told him. In fact, he was pretty sure after 'Kyle half undressed' he had gone brain dead. His cigarette continued to burn in his hand, but he was given the most apathetic, deadpan expression at Kenny that it was evident he had forgotten what he was doing.

"...repeat that, I don't think I heard you right."

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny gave him a look that seemed almost deadly. "They got drunk and almost had sex in the wine cellar. Care to ask me again?" he hissed, letting the finished cigarette fall from his mouth so he could stomp it out and kick it away. If he had to say it one more time, Kenny would hit him. Maybe not as hard as he would have hit Token if they were in a familiar place, but he'd still definitely hit him.

**Stan Marsh:** Staring blankly at Kenny, Stan stayed quiet for a few minutes until his cigarette burned him. He dropped it on the cobblestone, and then smeared it with his foot as he looked out at the garden. So Token tried having sex with Kyle. ...Stan's SBF. He tried ...having sex, with Kyle.

"I'm going to go kill Token, I'll be back later," Stan said in a monotone, and then turned to walk off back in through the huge front doors.

**Kenny McCormick:** "No, you aren't. Because that would suggest that I'm the one who told you." Kenny flicked away his own cigarette and followed Stan inside. "Leave him be, he already feels shitty about it. And there seriously doesn't need to be any more drama. This is supposed to be a fucking vacation." He half-wished it wasn't. He would have fucking loved this brawl of beating if they were in South Park where he could go home and sulk afterwards if he so pleased, or run and hide from authorities after beating the shit out of someone like that... But there was nowhere for him to run off to in France, especially since he didn't know a damn word of French.

**Stan Marsh:** "He feels shitty about it? Yeah right. It's a fucking show. Token gets whatever he wants and I'm sick of it, he's the biggest fake," Stan said loudly as he turned a corner, storming off through the meeting area. It was infuriating that he had to go through all these beautiful rooms just to get to Token's damn bedroom. He walked right into the kitchen and spotted the knives near a bowl of fruit - he grabbed the biggest one and started off towards the steps.

**Kenny McCormick:** "Dammit, Stan," Kenny grabbed his arm and pulled him back to face him, ignoring the danger of a flinging knife in the process. "You aren't going to kill anyone, knock it the fuck off. Yeah, it was a dick move. Yeah, he gets what he wants. But fuck, Stan, you have to know that he didn't mean that. At least.. I hope he didn't mean that..." his grip on the other's arm loosened, and he huffed. "Besides, what would you do then, huh?"

**- Stan and Craig's Room in the Vacation House -**

**Craig Tucker:** Craig watches Stan leave the room, and doesn't even have time to get a hand on a towel before Clyde comes barricading into the room. The frantic look on Clyde's face makes him grab the damned towel and tie it around himself as tight as possible to prevent it falling off because he knows he's about to get fucking manhandled. "Fucking what?" he asks, wondering what has Clyde so worked up.

**Clyde Donovan:** Clyde ran up to his Bro, locking him into a tight hug. He sniffled a little bit, feeling like he was just about to cry. The brunette looked up longingly and scared at Craig, his eyes giving off an inward plea for help. "Craig...holy..shit...Token..he." The boy sniffled once again. "I'M THE ONLY STRAIGHT GUY IN OUR GROUP NOW! Oh and Token was digging his hands into Kyle's pants."

**Craig Tucker:** Craig just lets Clyde cling to him for a moment, that is, until he realizes what Clyde is actually going on about. "Wait. You mean he actually went for it? Oh my fucking God, Clyde, I knew he wanted to, but I didn't know he'd do it with _Wendy here_. That's just fucking rich, holy shit," he says, disbelieving. There's no way Token actually had his hands in Broflovski's pants. _No way_. He's going to have to go visit the man himself to investigate further after he shakes Clyde off.

**Clyde Donovan:** "Wait what. You know..what. He wanted to...You've lost me bro. I don't understand a thing you're saying anymore. You've got to like...Wait, he did it with Wendy? Oh my God, do you know if he recorded it at all? Damn Wendy's pretty hot, man." Clyde, still refusing to let go, made a sort of dreamy look off into space, imagining how attractive Wendy would be in bed. Oh yes, that was just amazing. "Dude...maybe you should go talk to him and stuff..." And so you can ask him how nice Wendy is in bed. Probably not better or anywhere close to Bebe's abilities, but she could be high up on his chart.

**Craig Tucker:** Craig decides to ignore Clyde's questioning because he's not sure if Token wanting to bone Kyle could be classified as a secret or not anymore. …probably not. But regardless, he pries Clyde off of him, or tries to, and makes his way to his suitcase. "Let me put some fucking pants on and I'll go talk to him, alright?" he says. He's so fucking amused by the fact that Token was actually _on _Kyle. He didn't think that would actually happen, but here Clyde is, freaking out about having seen it. He gets in his suitcase and pulls out the first pair of jeans he sees, and a pair of boxers. Managing to keep Clyde away from him long enough to slide them on, he does, and then heads for the door. "I'll let you know how it goes, bro," he says over his shoulder, not caring if where Clyde goes. He just wants to talk to Token and see what actually happened. Maybe Clyde's eyes were playing tricks on him?

**Clyde Donovan:** Clyde felt saddened by the sudden loss of contact between him and Craig. But he quickly ignored it and moved to where Craig was, finding the boy already half dressed. Shrugging, he sat on the side of Craig and Stan's bed and replied, "Yeah dude you better. Don't break the Bro Code, man. I'm sure that's illegal here in France. But yeah, I think I'm gonna head out for a bit, it's kinda boring inside so I'm gonna go find some action. See ya around, bro." Clyde gave Craig a nice, firm brofist just before heading out into the hall and descending down the stairs and somehow finding his way to the outside.

**- Hallways of Vacation House -**

**Stan Marsh:** "I don't know what I'll fucking do okay, I probably would just...Okay, no knife, but I'm going to go punch him in the face. With my fist. Or something." He dropped the knife on the floor, letting it clamor as he took off around Kenny to get up the stairs. Halfway up, he turned and realized a little too late he was right in the way of Clyde. He ran into him, and then said "Goddamnit Clyde, your fat ass is everywhere I go! Why!"

**- Stan and Craig's Room in the Vacation House, to Token's Room -**

**Craig Tucker:** After a hearty brofist, Craig makes his way down the hall to Token's room. He knocks once – incase Token has any fucking business he's taking care of after getting ripped away from the ass he'd been apparently groping – before opening the door and saying, "It's just me."

He slides into the room and shuts the door behind himself. "Bro, what did I just hear happened? Did you really have your hands in Broflovski's fucking pants?"

**- Hallways of Vacation House -**

**Clyde Donovan:** "Woahoh, hey dude. Watch where you're-HEY! My ass is not fat. It's nicely shaped. Just like Beyonce's!" Clyde pressed his hand against a part of his body where Stan and him had collided. It hurt like fuck, but it was nothing compared to the injuries they'd get from playing sports. With a drawn out groan, Clyde continued, "So where'ya heading off to? Maybe we could walk outside for a bit and talk about random shit."

**- Token's Room in the Vacation House -**

**Token Black:** Token was far underneath his quilt, still fully clothed - shoes and all. His shirt was still unbuttoned and he had one arm limply hanging off of the bed.

"Shut the...ohhhhh." The lights were off, and when Craig had snuck in, he briefly saw the light and he really didn't want to have anything to do with the outside world right now. He was mortified, and still poached, all of which made him miserable and he quite frankly wanted to die in his bed.

"Never drink Cre...Chertu...Cherstuese. Or whatever it's fucking called. It's a trap. And yeah. I put my hands in Kyle's pants and now I want to hit my head on a wall for four hours straight."

**Craig Tucker:** Craig flicks on the light, despite Token's words because he needs to not suck over this, and makes his way over to sit on the edge of the bed. "What happened?" he asks, wanting the whole fucking story because _he still can't believe it._ There's no way, unless whatever this drink was had weird magic fucking powers.

**Token Black:** "Boy do you want me to kick your ass into the next country, because Italy isn't that far from here," Token shot at Craig grumpily, his eyes narrowed in slits as he tried shielding his eyes from the light. It didn't hurt that much, but it was annoying because everything looked so wonky right now.

"I drank this really strong alcohol and then Kyle walked in and drank and then somehow we got to stripping, okay...there's not much to the story besides Kenny saw us and I am a horrible human being. Ugh. Craig, just do me a favor and switch off the light, then you can come back and sit on my bed if you want."

He rolled over so his back was facing the light.

**- Hallways of Vacation House -**

**Stan Marsh:** "Walk outside? I was going to-" He was about to say punch Token in the face, but he realized Clyde was Token's best friend. Realizing he might have been overreacting - well, maybe Kyle did something - maybe it was Kyle's fault...but that was his SBF, he never wanted to get with Token, right? With a confused look on his face, he averted his eyes as he said, "...well, okay, let's go out for a walk."

**Clyde Donovan:** Greeting Stan's acceptance with a cheerful smile, Clyde started to descend down the staircase as he once was before, though stopping a several steps down and looking back to make sure Stan was actually coming. Not caring much whether Stan wanted to actually talk or not, Clyde began chatting away like usual, having no respect for other's privacies. "So dude, did someone tell you what happened down in the wine cellar? I swear Token was like going for Kyle's dick in there. Damn, I still can't believe that happened...And to think all these years he proclaimed himself as straight! Now I'm like...the only straight one left in the group." They exited the house, but Clyde suddenly stopped right outside the doors and said, "Bro...Stan...what if I'm gay to? Oh my God."

**Stan Marsh:** Stan had a dark look on his face as they took the way around Kenny - Clyde spoke way too much, and he never knew when to shut up. Why did he agree to this chitchat walk. Stalking after the other, hunched over and gloomy, he listened to him talk about Token going for his SBF's dick. Joy. When Clyde stopped and proclaimed his wonder for his sexuality, Stan stared at him like 'you have got to be kidding me'. "I don't know, Clyde. Maybe." He opened the door and walked out, walking out into the road and flipping off the house with both hands. He wasn't sure if Clyde was following, but he didn't give a shit - Token was a fucking asshole. A fucking sexy, swag-frenzied asshole who flirted with everyone and tried doing his best friend. Fuck Token.

The bodyguards who were waiting outside saw the double-middle finger salute, and stayed where they were.

**- Token's Room in the Vacation House -**

**Craig Tucker:** "Ugh, you expect me to come sit on your bed and talk to you when you're probably still – you know, I don't care, okay," he says, standing back up to go turn off the light. Once darkness covers the room again, he does his best to make his way gracefully back to the bed. "So. Do you _actually_ regret whatever just happened or do you just feel bad because Kyle has a boyfriend?" he asks, wondering where Token actually stands on this.

**- Outside the Vacation House -**

**Clyde Donovan:** "M...Maybe?" Clyde stared at the raven-haired boy next to him in complete disbelief. There was no _maybe_ when it came to the one and only, Clyde Donovan. He was manly as Hell and had a Bro status higher than God. Mhm, he was a boss. But still, he couldn't help but wonder..."So maybe right? So there's like still the chance I'm not? Because I'm totally not. I like boobs, and Bebe, and Bebe's boobs, and her hair and her clothes. But on the other hand I like Kevin's-" He cut himself off, realizing he was about to announce his love for Kevin's face. That fucking face, ruining all of Clyde's broments. "Liiiike...his...comic book collection. So yeah, not gay." This probably had no impact on Stan's life, but really, Clyde could care less.

**- Token's Room in the Vacation House -**

**Token Black:** Token glared at the inside of his eyelids as he tried blocking out the annoyingly loud movements Craig was making. When he sat back on the edge of the bed, he said, "I regret it, Craig. I regret that I made advances on Kyle Broflovski because he has a boyfriend and because I don't feel that way towards him. I regret that I have casual sex because I tried forcing that on him because I don't feel the same way but he might have been interested, so drunk me thought hey, why not. I feel **bad**." He moaned into his pillow, wrapping it around his face. "Damnit, poor Kenny. Poor Kyle...but damnit, poor Kenny."

**Craig Tucker:** "Bro, Token, knowing you, even drunk you, you probably asked him first. So this is just as much his fault as it is yours. I've never known you to ever force anything on anyone, unless their life is in danger or something. Relax; nothing actually happened, right?" he asks. Though, Token used the words 'got caught' which could imply… anything. "…_right?_" he asks again.

**- Outside -**

**Stan Marsh:** The darkness cloaked them now, and Stan wasn't sure why there weren't more street posts near this long avenue. There were a few buildings in the distance, but it seemed pretty country to him, even with the buildings around them. So quiet. Well, that was better. He looked at Clyde as the other ranted, and he reached in his pocket to get out his cigarettes and lighter, lighting himself one before putting the stuff back in his pocket. Puffing intensely, he stared off at the dark street, and turned down one, falling quiet again. Clyde just followed, he was really like an annoying dog but Stan would rather have him around then no one. Well, apparently Token's guards were dumbasses because they didn't even realize they had left the house - god, Token was an asshole.

"Sexuality is just an idea, who gives a shit about it." He said finally, feeling extremely bitter. Sexuality was like this - for normal people, you dated either gender, unless you were Token, and then you dated everyone freely and everyone was okay with that, even Kenny who should have been helping Stan kill Token for defiling Kyle's dick.

He thought he heard a car nearby, but it passed, and he shrugged it off.

"Clyde, why is Token such a fucking asshole?"

**- Kenny and Kyle's room in Vacation House -**

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny groaned and gazed around the kitchen after replacing the knife where it had been found. People usually ate their sorrows away, right? Eh... He couldn't bring himself to the thought of stuffing his face. Noting he said he was only going for a smoke and not a feast, he figured he should go back to his shared room. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he did just that, but stopped outside the door. What now? Was he mad? Were things just fine? Did everyone feel like this when faced with this situation? Or was it just Kenny and his fucked up logic, or rather, lack of logic behind it? Kenny shook his head. Hakuna Ma-fucking-ttata, as it were, right? He opened the door and walked in the room. "Sorry I took so long, Stan was out there."

**- Outside -**

**Clyde Donovan:** "...I give a shit about it." Clyde mumbled in response, his once childish smile now becoming a puppy like pout. He then shoved his hands into his coat pockets, taking in the sites around him and barely catching the last of what Stan said. He repeated it a couple of times in his head, until he managed to get a grasp on what Stan had said. In slight displeasure, Clyde looked over at Stan, his gaped open slightly. Token wasn't an asshole! God, Craig was the asshole for crying out loud! Stan's been dating the guy for a while now and he still hasn't figured that out? Huh, Clyde found that strange. "Dude, no. Nu uh. No way, man. Token's not an asshole. The only asshole I know is the Craigster. But...he's the awesome kind of asshole!" Clyde felt the foreign presence of a car or person close behind him and Stan, but figuring it was just another person catching the nice, French breeze, he paid no attention to it.

**- Token's Room in the Vacation House -**

**Token Black:** "Kenny walked in on me groping Kyle's ass," Token moaned again, banging his head once on the pillow. It wasn't as effective as he wished it was, so he just groaned and punched the bed once, face still buried. "I can't believe I did that," he said, though it was muffled. "I never get drunk..and the worst part is I'm still horny and I can't remember where we put the porn here, I think I packed it last time and I forgot..damnit."

**- Outside -**

**Clyde Donovan:** "Well yeah, I said he was the awesome kind of asshole. Didn't I? After all, he's my bro. My one true homie.~" Clyde snickered, feeling cocky and proud of his group friends. Really, there was probably no other friendship out there as bro as theirs. It was wonderful. He then noticed the same woman Stan had spotted just moments ago, her skin showing due to the miniscule amount of clothing. Wow, Clyde wanted some of that. Why go to France if you're not going to make l'amour? Casually walking away from Stan, Clyde checked out the lady once again and decided to go for it. "Dude, I'll be back. If I'm not there by morning, then tell Token to...not worry. I don't know, bro." And with that, he started heading towards the woman.

**- Token's Room in the Vacation House -**

**Craig Tucker:** Craig resists the urge to laugh at Token's predicament, because it's a dick move to laugh, but it's damn funny. After all, Craig has had his share of Donovan brand cockblocking. But Token seems to need more comfort right now than laughter, so he holds it back. He can't however, hold back his sarcastic comments, because that's just part of who he is. "I'm sorry bro, but before you ask I have to say no. I revoke my earlier blowjob offer because no, that's never fucking happening," he says, his humor leaking heavily into his words. In a bit of seriousness, he tries to think of where Token could get his fix, but Craig doesn't need that shit anymore since he has Stan near _always_ on his dick. "Bro, just get fucking paperview."

**- Outside -**

**Stan Marsh:** "...wait, what." Stan watched Clyde dismiss him as he walked off towards the woman. "Clyde, I really don't think - Clyde, no. Bad Clyde." He didn't realize he had started talking to him as if he would listen to dog commands, but because of how Clyde was, it just seemed fitting for the situation. Stan ran after the other to catch up, trying to grab his arm. He turned to see a black van pull up next to them, and it clicked that there was something really wrong with this. "Clyde, oh my god. We need to leave," He said as he saw two masked men come out- he could barely move before he felt something hit his neck. What the fuck. He reached up to feel a dart there, and he looked at Clyde before toppling over, hitting the cement. The second dart hit Clyde in the shoulder, and then the men hauled the both of them into the back of the van, tying their hands and legs together before shutting them inside and taking off down the street.

**- Token's Room in the Vacation House -**

**Token Black:** "Bro, I don't want your blow job but good idea...I'll get my laptop after the room stops spinning," Token said in an afterthought, and then paused. "...hey, I thought Clyde was with you- where'd he go to?"

Really, he had thought that Clyde would always be around one of them. Something didn't feel right, he just didn't know what.

**Craig Tucker:** Craig thinks for a second, trying to remember where Clyde said that he was going. "He said… he's going to find some action, I think," he says, trying to remember what the fuck Clyde said at all. Honestly, Craig was too consumed with thoughts of 'I fucking knew it' to really listen to what Clyde was going on about. "I'm not sure, but I left him in my room. Not that he's probably still there."

**Token Black:** "...wait, Clyde said he's going to find some action." Token slowly sat up, still consumed by his drunken stupor so he seemed extremely uncoordinated. Reaching underneath the covers, he felt around for a moment before he pulled out his cell and tried dialing a number. "Fuck," He said, squinting in the dark- the phone light was extremely bright. After five tries he unlocked his phone, and then he hit an emergency number.

"Hello...uh...Token. You have caller ID, ah, oh yeah...sorry, I was just- okay, has anyone left the house in the last hour? ...two guys? Uh, was one wearing a letterman?"

Token's brow furrowed as he listened, and then he said, "...yes, look for them right now, please."  
He hung up the phone and looked at Craig.

"...I can't believe you would tell Stan the signal. Only you were supposed to use that, Craig."

**Craig Tucker:** "I didn't tell him," Craig says, frowning at Token's distrust even if he can't see. If Stan used it, it's because he was actually flipping someone off. Though, Craig is stuck on one little detail here. "Wait… Stan left with Clyde? How the fuck… I'm pretty sure Stan is a little pissed at Clyde for stealing precious Craig cuddle time so I can't believe they'd leave together." He thinks for a second, trying to figure out where the two would go together. And why Stan left at all without telling Craig. Then again, Stan's phone isn't even in his pocket; he just got out of the tub. "Do you know where they're going?" he asks, even though it's a stupid question. Of course Token doesn't know.

**Token Black:** Token had leaned forwards to rest his head on his hand, balanced on his knee delicately. "Ughhhhhhhhhn," He said out loud, not able to conceive how stupid he had been. Not only did he screw things up with Kyle, but he just lost Stan and Clyde somewhere outside. At night. Glancing at his phone again, wincing as the light popped up - he saw it was almost five AM. Damn, jetlag.

"It's almost morning," He commented, even though he felt like he should be face first in his pillow, asleep. "This is really bad, Craig, I'm not coherent right now though..so I'm going to hand you my phone, and if they call - the bodyguards- just tell me, okay..god, I hope they find them."

**Craig Tucker:** "Yeah, alright," Craig agrees, though it means he's pretty much stuck in Token's room for the night. At least until someone finds Stan because _fuck everything_ if he loses Stan. Not after all the shit they've fought through, no, Craig is not losing him in fucking France of all places. And Clyde can't get lost either, because then he and Stan will be down a child.

He fights the urge to make a comment about Token jumping him if he lays down and just flops onto his back. I'm not leaving as long as they're MIA," he says, realizing he didn't even tell Token his plan. He'll follow Token into the goddamn bathroom if he has to. Well okay, maybe not, but he'll chill in Token's general vicinity.

**Token Black:** Once he passed off his phone, he curled up on his bed again, his eyes open for a few minutes. When he closed them, he said, "...Craig, you should sleep. Trust me. I'm not going to sleep after tonight until we figure out where they are. I'm sure they'll find them though, they've only been gone..what, a half an hour? That's hardly any time to get in trouble, I'm sure they're..." He drifted off, and fell asleep. One thing was, Token slept like a rock - so even if Craig slapped him, he probably would sleep through it.

**Craig Tucker:** Craig waits to hear the rest of Token's sentence, but when it never comes he realizes that Token is asleep. "Sleep-easy bastard," he grumbles, burrowing his way into Token's blankets and pulling them up over his shoulders in a worried sort of pout. Before they came here, Token had said something about there being problems with abductions, and without bodyguards, what if Stan and Clyde got abducted? Ugh, what the fuck. He buries his face in the blankets, knowing that he won't be able to sleep now. What if his fucking boyfriend is being – no, the body guards will find him. And Clyde. They'll both be okay. Craig sure as fuck isn't getting any sleep, though.

**- Outside -**

**Clyde Donovan:** "Cellphone? Uh..funny story.." Clyde inverted the pockets on his letterman. "I left it at the house. Didn't think we'd be fucking kidnapped and put in a dog cage and-Oh God, Stan. What are we going to do? Craig and Token must be flipping shit!" His breathing became faster, his eyes jolting from place to place and his hands tightly gripped on the cage bars. Oh God, what was this place? The lights were too dim to see very far and it didn't look like there was much of a way out of the cage. Clyde quietly whimpered and curled back into his previous position, feeling quite defeated. "Stan, what if we can't get out?"

**Stan Marsh: **"...no phone." Stan said rather dejectedly, his eyes narrowing - not out of anger, but more out of trying to think of what they could do. He reached in his pocket to find his lighter and cigarettes- whoever these people were, they didn't assess what they had in their pockets before they put them in a dog cage.

"Okay, don't freak out Clyde, let's just figure out what we have in our pockets...do you have like, a-"

He heard footsteps, and froze. Scooting over towards Clyde, he put himself extremely close- just in case they tried separating them, Stan wouldn't let that happen. "Clyde, don't talk at all, okay."

_Four men walked into the clearing, one carrying a phone. The one with the phone motioned for the others to get Stan and Clyde out. Unlocking the door, one man grabbed Clyde roughly by the back of his letterman, and pulled him out - and then another grabbed Stan and trapped his arms behind him and forced him out into the clearing. Once their arms were pinned behind them, they lined them up as the one with the phone took a picture. _

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde took Stan's words to heart. Usually he'd refuse the notion to quit talking, but this was serious. His mouth was gaped open, his breathing still quite rapid. What were these men doing? Why would they take a picture? Why were they holding Stan and him in such a way? He swallowed, then peered over at Stan, his eyes filled with worry and fear. Clyde mouthed 'Why' at Stan. Hoping the men didn't see the movement of his mouth.

**Stan Marsh: **Stan looked wide-eyed at Clyde - in fact, he really hadn't stopped looking at Clyde, namely because he was worried someone would drag him off somewhere and he wouldn't see him again.

_"Prendre sa veste," The one with the phone said, and the man holding Clyde back reached up and yanked the letterman off of him with some difficulty, and tossed it to the fourth man. Once it was off, he pinned his hands behind his back again. _

**Clyde Donovan: **"Hey! Wait, no that's my-" Clyde tried to protest, but it was too late. His letterman, his pride and joy, had been ripped off of him and had been given to the hands of a stranger. No one was supposed to touch, or even hold that jacket aside from his bros and very select girls. This was bad, this was just terrible. Clyde was now stricken with fear, feeling as if his only form of armor had been stripped right off him. He kept his eyes on the man with his letterman for moment, then looked to the floor in shame.

_The men laughed at Clyde's feeble protest, and the one holding him tightened his grip on his arms to the point of almost being painful. _

_"Perdre les chemises," The man with the phone said, motioning for them to continue with the strip. _

_The men respectively holding Stan and Clyde removed their shirts over their head, tossing them on the ground. Pinning their arms no more than thirty seconds later, the man with the camera snapped another photo of shirtless Stan and Clyde._

**Clyde Donovan: **"Clyde, don't say anything," Stan said quietly, and felt the man grip his arms tighter in some sort of warning to shut up.

_They laughed when one of them pointed out the bruises from the hickies on Stan- and then the one behind him said, "Des marques de dents trop," and they continued to laugh. _

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde nodded lowly, his eyes still to the ground. His wrists hurt. God, that man had held them too hard. He hated this, so much. There was nothing that could come close to how he felt right now. His letterman was gone, and now his shirt. His and Stan's dignity was slowly being chipped away at-no, not slowly, more like quickly. These men seemed to have no shame in doing this to the two of them. Clyde bit his lip, he wanted to cry, he wanted to call out Craig and Token's name, hoping they'd come and get him. But no, he knew that wasn't true. He was alone on this with Stan. Nothing could be worse.

_After speaking in French back and forth, the man holding Clyde walked him back over to the cage and threw him in roughly- and then the one holding Stan did the same. They locked the door, and stood in a circle discussing something that Stan couldn't even tell if they were actually talking or just slurring a bunch of syllables together. _

**Stan Marsh:**Stan crept closer to Clyde, and put a comforting arm around him, even though it felt incredibly gay to do so. "Okay, just don't do anything to piss them off," He whispered, watching the backs of the men in the circle. "Maybe they're just ...uh..." He was going to say 'using them to get ransom', but he realized how awkward it was that they removed their shirts. Furrowing his brow, he removed his arm from around Clyde and rubbed his arms where the man gripped him tightly. "Okay, just...whatever you do, let's stay together, okay." He felt his heart pounding in his chest in a bad way - he wanted to run off, but he had no idea where they were.

**Clyde Donovan:** He leaned back on the metal bars, not caring much for how uncomfortable they felt against his back. His eyes were locked on the men, inwardly detesting how cruel they were. '"Stay together? Y-yeah, okay..." Though he wasn't sure there was much of a choice. It's not like either of them could leave anytime they wanted. The brunette shifted closer to Stan, somewhat feeling the need to snuggle up to someone out of fear. Leaning his head against Stan's shoulder, Clyde aimlessly stared off into the dim lighted space before them, feeling all hope drifting and faded off into it.

**Stan Marsh:** Stan's arm went back up to wrap around Clyde's shoulders, pulling him close out of some sort of protective instinct.  
_The men stopped talking abruptly, and disbanded. About ten minutes later, they came back carrying a coffin._

**Stan Marsh:** Tightening his hold on Clyde, his eyes widened to the point his eyes were bugging out. "Oh...fuck. What. What is that," He said nervously, now clinging to Clyde for dear life. Before, his saving grace had been the need to protect Clyde - he somehow managed to keep levelheaded out of that. But seeing a symbol of death lugged into the room made his stomach lurch, and he automatically feared for not only Clyde, but for himself. "Clyde, oh my god...if they separate us, just, I'm sure Token will find us okay, don't freak out,"

_The men opened the door and grabbed Stan by the hair, yanking him out from Clyde's hold. They pulled him over to the plain black open coffin, and pushed him in - and the other men dragged Clyde out by his arms, pushing him over to coffin and shoving him in next to Stan forcefully. _

_One of the men walked up with a needle - he pushed it so some clear liquid dripped out of the end of the needle. With no warning, he jammed it into Stan's arm, and then half way through emptying it, he jammed it into Clyde's arm. _

**Stan Marsh:** Struggling as they moved him, he tried pushing his way out when he saw they were holding a fucking needle. Not able to throw the men off, Stan fell back in the coffin and looked at Clyde with fear in his eyes before he passed out.

**Clyde Donovan: **"No...those aren't.." But they were; coffins. He felt his heart stop, terrorized by the large objects before him. No, oh God no. He was too young to die. He leaned closer to Stan, fearing for both of their lives and then giving a small nod in response to his friend. Once the cage door was thrown open, Clyde dug his face as close to Stan as possible, only to be torn apart from him. He was then dragged out right after Stan and forced into the same coffin as him. Looking at Stan and then the needle with pure horror, Clyde was at a loss of words. He wanted to protest, he wanted to pull the needle out of Stan, but he was absolutely terrified. His eyes now catching the movement of the needle, Clyde gasped once he felt the sharp point break through his skin. Looking at Stan in hopes to find some form of security, he saw that the boy was already beginning to pass out, as was he. Keeping his eyes locked in place, he made sure Stan was the last person he saw before completely blacking out.

**- Token's Room at Vacation House -**

**Token Black:** "_**Mmmmmmmmmmmm**_..." Token stirred in the middle of the morning - usually he slept longer, however his hungover state had awakened him a bit earlier than usual. With his eyes still closed, he realized he felt another body next to him. Somehow, the mix of jetlag and alcohol had erased the immediate memory of what went on last night, and he was thinking of Wendy from a really good dream he just had. Wendy, beach, sun, waves...

He moved over, his hand tracing Craig's shoulder blade with his finger tips- then his hand lingered there for a moment, before it trailed down Craig's spine to his lower back. Moving closer to Craig, he trailed his lips against the other's shoulder and kissed it lightly, his hand going back up to his waist, and then crept up his front.

"Good morning, beautiful," He whispered, but then his heart stopped when he realized there were no breasts on his bed partner.

"... aw, **fuck**."

**Craig Tucker:** Not ever having fallen asleep, he reopens his eyes when he notices Token moving around. He's about to say something, complain that Token fucking fell asleep on him when Craig had to stay up by himself, but he stops when Token comes closer. He stares, eyebrows arched high on his forehead, as Token caresses him and even goes so far as to kiss his bare shoulder.

"…well good morning to you too, handsome," he says sarcastically, Token's hand still on his chest. He doesn't move, not too fond of the idea of _why_ Token might be so close to him. He doesn't want to encounter anything that might make them both not even speak for the rest of the trip.

"It's a good fucking thing I see enough of your charm shit to not fall for this, otherwise I think our broship might be in danger," he says, meaning _get the fuck off before we make this awkward_.

**Token Black:** His hand slowly moved from Craig's chest, even though he thought to himself how damn smooth the other was. The memory from last night started coming back full force, and it made the moment all the more awkward. First Kyle, then Craig...Token better watch out, or next time it would be his first cousin, and then his long lost twin.

"Sorry Craig," He mumbled, backing away as he looked at his bare-chested friend. His eyes were now open, even if it hurt with the light streaming through the windows. Damn that beautiful French lighting.  
"...oh, fuck. You're shirtless in my bed. We didn't do anything, right."

He sounded as if he didn't trust his own ability to lure people into his bed.

**Craig Tucker:** "Yes Token, we made sweet gay love all night long while my boyfriend is off somewhere missing in the middle of France," he says, using his sarcasm to his advantage in informing Token of what's going on because he doesn't seem to remember. "…and I'm only half naked because I'd just gotten out of the Jacuzzi when Clyde burst in all fucking up in arms about you so I had to throw on whatever I found first before he tried dragging me through the house in a towel."

**Token Black:** Token was quiet for awhile, his eyes on the other with an unsettling calmness. In fact, he seemed unshaken by the news flash reminder - Stan and Clyde missing, nearly having sex with Kyle, ending up drunk off his ass in the whole scenario. With a serious expression chiseled on his face, he said very evenly, "Craig."

With a lengthy pause, he said, "...I know now how Stan feels. I just had a drunk Stan night and I'm not exactly sure how to respond to you right now, that's how thrown off I am. But I'm going to fix this, okay. I promise." He slowly pushed himself off the bed, realizing his shirt was hanging open. He took it off instead of fixing it - changing outfits was a must, this outfit was trashed. Who knew what sort of investigators he had to talk to - they apparently didn't get a phone call all night.

Standing up from the bed, he walked over to the walk in closet and open it.

"Whatever I drank last night, we're throwing in high tide later, okay."

**- Italy -**

**Stan Marsh:** There was a strange familiar warmth on Stan's face when he started to come out of his deep sleep. His hand drifted up to his face, feeling it to make sure he still had the ability to feel. His eyes slowly opened, and he realized he was sitting in front of a giant window, but it had bars on it. What. He looked down, and realized he was naked.

"What." He commented darkly, realizing he felt that familiar fear as he sat up and looked around the brightly lit room. It really was nice large Victorian decorated room - besides the empty hanging human cage from the ceiling, the chains on the wall, a table that they used for who knows what, and a lot of whips. He got off the bed he was on and realized his leg was chained to the foot of the bed.

"What...oh my god, what is this." He grabbed the sheets off the bed, and draped it over him, and then looked over across the room - there was Clyde. Naked, goddamnit. He was barely in reach, so he walked over and grabbed the sheet from his bed to put over him. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he looked at Clyde's shackle, feeling horrible. "Fucking stupid fucking trip..." He muttered as he put a hand on Clyde's head, petting his hair comfortingly. He was inwardly glad, even if they were naked, that Clyde was alive.

**Clyde Donovan:** Snuggling into Stan's hand, Clyde basked in the joyful feeling of being pet. He let the boy's hand pet him softly for a few moments, before completely coming to and realizing what was going on. Though he really didn't mind it. If Stan wanted to pet him, then so be it. The boy then half liddedly opened his eyes, his view being not only Stan but tattered walls lined with foreign objects. He squinted for a moment, unable to register where he was. Oh, that's right, they had been drugged and put in coffins. Great. Clyde lightly pushed Stan's hand away from his head and tiredly sat up. Oh, there was a sheet over him-wait, oh he was naked to. Well then. He rubbed his eyes, and mumbled, "Where...are we?" He then looked around the room, though immediately regretting it. "T-those are..." Whips, a case, chains, everything you'd imagine in a torture chamber. Instantly, he pulled Stan close to him and fearfully said, "Stan, what is this place?"

**Stan Marsh: **His heart was beating in his throat again, finally letting himself be scared out of the sight of whoever had put him here. When Clyde batted him away, he stopped repetitively petting Clyde and then reached over and covered him up again when he moved the blanket away. Sitting on the edge of the other's bed, he looked at the wooden floor and then back at Clyde, his eyes distant as he wondered what everyone else was doing. For someone who was so confident all the time about doing everyone and anything, Token was sure taking his goddamn time finding them. Now Stan wasn't even sure if they were in France anymore. He looked out the window as Clyde hugged him close, seeing a nice garden outside - it was so sunny, so nice...and then there was this room, a complete contrast - dark wallpaper, lofty ceiling, bad things hanging on the walls.

Hugging Clyde close, he pet his hair again, and then said, "It'll be okay, dude, okay, we'll just wait for Token. And...if they come in to do anything, I'll take it, okay, you're safe. No one's going near you."

He comforted the other, rubbing his back as he stared around the room. ...well, maybe if he just pretended it was Craig...no, that made it worse, he didn't want to think of Craig right now. He wanted him to rescue him, but he didn't want to think of him because it would make him physically and mentally hurt more.

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde paid the window no attention, to him the only thing worth seeing right now was Stan. Just the joy of having another person, namely a friend, helping him get through this. He leaned his head close to Stan, responding in such an unsure voice. "Alright...and no, dude, don't do that." As much as he hated it, if he hadn't dragged Stan along on a walk, they wouldn't have been in this mess. Clyde sniffled a little, feeling like he was on the verge of tears. He felt terrible for all this on Stan. Then gripping the upper part of Stan's arm fairly tight, Clyde solemnly said, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have made you go on a stupid walk with me. I'm sorry, Stan. What if Token and the other's can't find us? Oh God, this is my fault, I'm so fucking sorry."

**Stan Marsh: **"No, god, Clyde, I walked out too, I was pissed off and probably would have ended up punching Token in the face if I had stayed..." Stan attempted to half-assedly console Clyde, petting his hair again as he bit his inner cheek just to keep from crying. God, why was Clyde such a baby?

"No, just...just let me deal with it, okay, I can protect you, all right...don't apologize, just let me deal with it, okay."

Now he was awkwardly holding the other, realizing they were nearly snuggling naked. It was extremely weird, and yet not that unfitting - even if snuggling naked, with blankets draped over them, chained to beds read wrong in every aspect.

"Maybe we can tell them about Token and they'll want to keep us for ransom or something, we can bargain with them..." The language barrier remained, but Stan would mime it if he had to. Money. Everyone was convinced with money, right?

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde stayed quiet; if Stan was going to protect him, then he must protect Stan to. Though knowing Stan would just decline Clyde's willingness to help again, the boy just remained silent. He did, however, breathe a small "Yeah, maybe," in the very end. A part of him was well beyond glad that Token had enough money to spare, but he still felt as though the guy wouldn't be able to find them. He sighed, still feeling lost as to why all this was happening. Really, why was it? All the two of them wanted to do was walk down the road in France, and well, pick up that one woman. But he supposed none of that mattered now. Clyde burrowed his face closer to Stan once again, feeling glad that there was at least one person here to comfort him.

**Stan Marsh: **Sighing, Stan allowed Clyde to bury his face in his shoulder, despite the awkwardness of being next to someone he was pissed at earlier. Somehow, he was no longer pissed off and he couldn't bring himself to hating Clyde despite his idiocy going for a strange woman in France.

**- Token's Room, Vacation House -**

**Craig Tucker:** Craig watches Token drop the shirt, and his eyes can't help but to follow Token's toned back until in disappears into the closet. "I don't know, drinking is okay every now and then," he says. "And what the fuck do you mean you know how Stan feels; don't look at me through your pervo drunk eyes," he accuses, sitting up and pulling the blankets up over his chest mockingly, as if Token could see him anyway.

"So what are we going to do about Clyde and Stan because I don't want them to be dead; neither of them have contacted us."

**Token Black:** "Oh, no. God Craig, not everyone wants your hot bod." Token said a bit harshly from the closet, and he changed into a new pair of boxers, white slacks and a orange undershirt. By the time he fixed his belt, he opened the closet door all the way again, and fixed his collar as he looked over at Craig.

"Okay, what did Stan have on him when he left? No ID? I know Clyde doesn't carry his. I'm guessing that if they don't find ID on them, if they were kidnapped, they're probably going to be..." He paused, wondering if he should tell Craig. Really, if he just delt with the problem on his own, he'd fix it. They just had to hit all the abandoned warehouses, see if they can find them...well, before they get out country.

"Well it'll be okay. Uh, could you tell Wendy I can't spend tonight with her, I'm going to go to some places and I need clearance so I can't take anyone with me. Security reasons. God, this headache is awful...I need some coffee," He narrowed his eyes as he walked past the bed, completely ignoring that Craig had the sheets covering his chest.

**Craig Tucker:** "I have no fucking idea what Stan had on him, or even what he was wearing. Like I said, we just got out of the Jacuzzi and Clyde all but tackled me before I was even dressed. I didn't see Stan leave the room," he says, realizing how bad this situation probably is. God fucking damn it, why do they always get into life threatening fucking situations? He just slumps back into Token's bed and pulls the covers up to his neck again, curling and facing away from Token. "Why the fuck couldn't the code have been Bitchin' like I wanted?" he mumbles. He fully intends on continuing to sulk until Token does whatever he plans on doing to fix this, because Craig is sick of dealing with these problems on his own. He's just going to sit this one out and let Token deal with it, because Token is good at it and Craig doesn't care as long as Stan comes back to him in one fucking piece. And Clyde. He fucking wants Clyde back too.

**Token Black:** Token was nearly out the door before he looked over his shoulder, realizing Craig wasn't following. "Damnit, Craig, don't waste time in bed. You can help me fix this too, you just can't go out with me when I go to the security areas. Trust me, it'll be fine, I've got this." The truth was Token _didn't_ have this, but he didn't tell Craig that he was doubting whether Clyde or Stan would come back alive. With a frown, he walked over to Craig and ripped the covers off of him, and then held out his palm. "Phone. And then get the hell up. You're not moping in my bedroom. You'll bring down in one day the great atmosphere I've built up in here over the years."

**Craig Tucker:** Craig glares when the covers are ripped from his grasp, but he soon gives it up with a sigh. "What the Hell can I do? Why can't I just lay here and be a lump like I want?" he asks. Still, he forks over the phone. "I don't want to sulk in my own room; this bed is already warm." He's being unnecessarily unreasonable, but he hasn't had any sleep, and his boyfriend is missing and probably in a lot of danger, and he has a right to be unreasonable.

**Token Black:** Token stared at Craig, feeling a little bit put off. After all, he knew how worried he must be - they brought Stan here to get rid of all the threats, not create more. And now this happened. And Token was essentially lying to him and telling him it would be okay, when Token himself didn't care to deal with kidnappings - and the fact that Token was always ID'd, they used him as a bargaining piece. Clyde and Stan would not. They would probably try selling them into a prostitution ring - and as much as Token wanted to tell them, 'jokes on you, Clyde would be the worst male whore ever', it wasn't funny. No, not when they weren't safe.

Maybe it was because he was hungover and his head ached; maybe it was because he didn't want to tell everyone on the trip he had this when he really was kind of scared out of his mind.

"Uh...Craig, you need to help me, because...I really, I don't have this. I don't know what to do. I don't know everything, I only know how to deal with being a kidnapp-ee end of a kidnapping where I was used as a bargaining chip...I don't think I've ever heard of anyone finding people after being sold on the black market. Not easily, and I need to call a lot of places and set up investigators and...Craig, I'm really worried we might not see them alive again, and I need your help to prevent that, okay...so just get dressed and meet me downstairs, we need to work on calling these places and contacting my parents as soon as possible to tell them what happened so they can contact people too."

**Craig Tucker:** Craig stands after Token speaks and gives him a brohug. He realizes that he was kind of being a dick by just laying there when it shouldn't be Token's problem to deal with anyway. "Sorry, yeah, I'll go put a shirt on," he says, trying to pull himself together. Maybe a nap would do him some good, but he's not about to go to sleep when two of his boys are missing and in danger.

He goes back into his own room after making sure Token is okay and pull son a t-shirt. He'd try to find something nicer, but he really doesn't have anything. Maybe he should invest in nicer clothing sometime, fucking Christ he's needed it a lot lately. He finds his phone and his heart skips an actual beat when he sees one new message flash across the screen. Maybe it's Stan, texting to say he's okay and not to worry, or something along those lines. His hopes are soon crushed when he realizes that he doesn't even know the number. It just says something about guineas… Ruby? But why would Ruby be texting from an unknown number? Whatever, it's not important as long as his pets are okay because it wasn't fucking Stan so he doesn't care anymore.

He makes his way downstairs and finds Token. He takes a moment to collect himself, trying not to think about where Stan and Clyde could be right now, or what someone could be doing to them, and then approaches his friend. "Alright, Captain, what do I do?" he asks. He really doesn't know how he could help, but it's rare that Token actually asks for help, and Craig can't even remember the last time it happened, so shit must really be going down. IT makes his gut clench with worry, but he bites it back. He just has to do what he can.

**- Kitchen at Vacation House -**

_**Token Black:**__ *Phone Call_

_**Christophe Giraud:**__ *answers* C'est le Taupe. Quoi?_

_**Token Black:**__ Oh, uh...hey Christophe. This is Token Black. _

_**Christophe Giraud:**__ Oh. Quoi._

_**Token Black: **__Last night there was a misunderstanding and my bodyguards didn't follow Clyde and Stan out..and they can't find them now. We haven't been contacted by anyone but they left without identification on them and they don't speak French. _

_**Christophe Giraud:**__ sounds like a petit problem for you_

_**Token Black:**__ I need to find them, Christophe, I think they're in trouble...The bodyguards literally have searched everywhere in a twenty mile radius and can't find them. _

_**Christophe Giraud:**__ why do they not have their phones?_

_**Token Black: **__Stan had just gotten out of the shower, he left his phone on the bed. And Clyde is...gifted, he left his phone in his bag. I found it this morning. _

_**Christophe Giraud:**__ well I hope you can find them. Bye._

_**Token Black:**__ No, wait, Christophe._

_**Token Black:**__ I was going to ask you to help me, please. _

_**Christophe Giraud:**__ D'acc it's ten thousand for both._

_**Token Black:**__ Okay, I'll pay you twenty thousand for each. _

_**Christophe Giraud:**__ No it is twenty thousand total_

_**Token Black:**__ I don't care how much you want, just help me find them. _

_**Christophe Giraud:**__ ouai. Bye._

_**Token Black: **__When will you get here?_

_**Christophe Giraud:**__ Soon. Its ten thousand up front and I will send you a direct deposit link._

_**Christophe Giraud:**__ *texts link*_

_**Token Black:**__ Done._

_**Christophe Giraud: **__Bon. *hangs up*_

**Token Black:** Token had made a call to Christophe, and now he was on the phone to the bodyguards again, only to hear that they couldn't find them in the abandoned warehouses either. Maybe they had waited too long - maybe these men moved quick, and they were already either deeper in France or over the border. With an agitated look, Token served himself a cup of coffee, and held up his hand to quiet Craig down when he walked in. He had his bluetooth on, so he couldn't blame Craig for not noticing he was on the phone. "Okay, so I hired investigators already, I have to call my- oh. You've contacted them? Oh, um, I don't know Stan's parents but I could contact Clyde's father - you have records? Okay, what do you need? ...uh huh? Birth marks? I don't know, I never looked at Clyde that way. Let me talk with my friend and get back to you, I'm sure he knows about Stan's."

He glanced at his cup of coffee, leaning on the counter. Pressing the end on his phone call by putting his hand in his pocket, he looked at Craig. "They need to know details about birth marks and scars- I can't even remember seeing Clyde naked, I'm sure we have though..."

**Craig Tucker:** Craig gives Token a look, before starting to think about their stupid bodies. "Well I left Stan a fuck ton of hickies on his neck this morning. And he's got this scar on his left shoulder, one on his right leg… and I don't know, I don't want to explain every single mark on his body to you, that's creepy on my part. And Clyde's got all kinds of fucking bumps and bruises; you know how clumsy that guy is."

Trying to think about Stan's physical appearance makes panic churn in his gut again. He didn't even say good bye to Stan because Stan had all but fled at the sight of Clyde. He has no idea what Stan looks like right now, and they were in the middle of having a talk, too. What the fuck, this is just all kinds of terrible.

**Token Black:** "Okay, let me tell them," Token hit the redial, and then he informed the bodyguards of Stan's scars and Clyde's bumps. Saying a cordial farewell, he hung up again and sipped his coffee, his hand grasping the handle tightly.

"Don't worry too much about it, Craig," He said quietly, even though he didn't sound too reassuring. His eyes were focused on the painting on the wall behind Craig instead of at the other - he didn't want to make eye contact right now. "We have to talk to their parents though. The more publicity they get, maybe their kidnappers will realize people want to see them again, and they'll try bargaining with us. At least then we know they're alive and safe. They'll be on the news around five tonight."

**Craig Tucker:** "Of course I'm going to fucking worry about it; they're my boyfriend and my best friend and they're nowhere to be found in fucking France where fucking sex trafficking is notorious," he says. It's not particularly angry, or even directed at Token, just extremely wracked. Why the fuck does this kind of thing happen so often?

"But yeah, okay, I'll call Stan's mom if you can get a hold of Clyde's dad."

**Token Black:** "Yeah, I can call him now..." He went to his contacts list, looking for Mr. Donovan's number. With a sigh, he hit dial and walked off with his coffee mug in hand. "I'll be back after - oh, hello Mr. Donovan..."

**- Kenny and Kyle's Room at Vacation House -**

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny woke up, his mind hazy from sleep, and almost jumped about ten feet in the air when he noticed it wasn't his room. Where the fuck- Ohh, France. Right. He looked down to see Kyle next to him, and he gave him a small kiss on the cheek. By now, he was starving and couldn't resist the French food begging for him in the kitchen, so he decided to let Kyle sleep and shuffled his way out of the room, not particularly caring that he was in just in pajama pants. Upon noticing the both in the kitchen talking on phones, he mumbled, "Phone call party? Should I go call ma?" and trudged his way to the fridge.

**- Kitchen at Vacation House -**

**Craig Tucker:** Craig sighs when Token walks away and pulls out his own phone. He scrolls slowly until he sees the name he needs, but hesitates before pushing call. He'd _just_ gotten her to like him, and now he lost her fucking son in France, possibly to never be seen again. The thought is enough to make even Craig this upset, so what the fuck is _she_ going to say?

With a catch of breath, he pushes send and holds the phone up to his ear. It rings… and rings… and rings… and every fucking second hurts until she answers. "… …yeah, hey, it's uh, it's Craig. … ...yeah, I'm fine. But listen, I have something to tell you… um… …yeah it's important. Stan kind of… left. And we can't find him." He stops for a second to clench his eyes shut, the dooming freak out he feared hitting him full force. It only makes his stomach clench harder, and he can actually feel pain behind his eyeballs. "I'm – I'm sorry, we're trying to find him, okay? He was just trying to get some air and there was a misunderstanding with the bodyguards and - … …yes, a misunderstanding. Stan said something that made them think they didn't have to follow when he wandered off and - … …I know, I'm sorry… We're looking everywhere. Token has his best men on the job. …yeah, we're doing our best." He's quiet and trying to stay calm, but it's not really working. She's not taking it well, and her panic is only making Craig's panic worse. He doesn't think he's ever needed a hug more than he does fucking right now. "Yeah, don't worry, we'll find him. … …I promise. … …I – um… yeah, I'm okay. I will be, anyway." He looks up and notices Kenny coming into the kitchen. Fucking great, now Kenny will see him being all fucking emotional. "I have to go, but I'll keep you updated, okay? I'll call if anything happens. … …I know. … …okay… …good bye."

There's no way he can ask for that hug now that it's more than just Token in the room, and he does his best to stop the burning in his eyes. He stays quiet, not telling Kenny what's happening. When Token gets off the phone they can tell him, or something.

**- Italy -**

_After a half an hour passed, the door to the room slid open. Obviously the room was hidden, and this sliding door was hard to distinguish from the actual wall. A lanky figure appeared, and it appeared to be female because of the curves and long blond hair. However, it removed its blue kimono robe and hung it on a handle on the wall; then pulled off a breast plate, revealing its gender as male. He was pale white, and the blond hair seemed to be natural, and also looked to be around twenty five, though it was hard to tell whether it was due to genetics or cosmetic surgeries. With a look towards Clyde and Stan's direction, he walked over still wearing leather black pants and a silver belt, with black knee high boots. _

_"Benvenuto, i miei bei ragazzi. Oh," He leaned on the four post of Clyde's bed, dangerously close to the two. "English, no? Ou Francais?" _

**Stan Marsh:** Stan stared blankly at the other, not sure what to think of this tall, weird man. ...was that Italian? Aw, fuck, they were in Italy. "...english."

_"English. So what are your names?"_

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde started somewhat fearfully at the, what he thought to be, a girl. She looked absolutely stunning-that was until the 'woman' stripped off her robe and took off the breast plate. At that point in time, Clyde felt a little uneasy and confused. He hated to admit it, but that man looked undeniably beautiful. Clyde didn't want to think of him like that, but he couldn't help it. He then coward back to Stan, once again refusing to leave his hold. That man then leaned close to the two of them, making Clyde even more uncomfortable than he was now. "Our names...?" Why would he want their names? But at any rate, Clyde was too flustered to even think about lying. So with a quiet voice, the brunette said, "C-Clyde...uh...Donovan..."

**Stan Marsh: **"Stan Marsh. Look, we know Token Black, and he's pretty damn rich so he could give you a lot of money if you let us go back home to the US, where we're from, okay? We have like, families...and boyfriends. ...I have a boyfriend. ...Clyde's not even gay, so you're wasting your time stripping him down like this, it's really not cool, okay, let's just...can we just have clothes and leave."

_"Why would you want to leave?" He smiled coyly, walking around the edge of the bed and grabbing the edge of the sheet wrapped around Stan. "You don't need this," He said as he ripped it off him, and then ripped the other sheet off of Clyde._

_"I don't really care what your names are." Checking the both of them out obviously, with moving his eyes up and down them slowly, he raised a single light eyebrow as he said to Stan, "Kiss him."_

**Stan Marsh: **"...no."

**Clyde Donovan: **"What." He said bluntly. There was no way he was going to kiss Stan. For one, he was a boy, two, he was Craig's boyfriend and three...it was Stan fucking Marsh. He looked at the man, his face full of surprise. He was expecting to be asked to do something worse, well, kissing Stan was pretty bad he guessed. Then looking back at Stan, he whispered to him, "There is no fucking way I'm going to kiss you. That's...ugh." The man probably heard all that from being so close, but Clyde could really care less at a time like this. He bit the side of his cheek, hoping worse wouldn't come to worse for declining the man's command.

_"No?" He said dubiously, his gray eyes narrowing as he walked to the wall near the door, out of their reach. Grabbing a rod that looked a bit like a cattle prod off of the wall, he trailed the wire it was attached to behind him as he brought it back to the bed. Sitting down next to the two, he looked at Stan, and then Clyde as he held it up for them to see. _

_"Do you know what this is?"_

**Stan Marsh:** "...no." Stan responded, feeling his stomach churn. He was pretty sure he was going to throw up - and having backed into the headboard with his arm still around Clyde, he was wondering if it would be a good defense mechanism to get out of whatever what was going down right now.

_"It's a picana. It is like a cattle prod only specifically for humans. You see, it delivers a high voltage but a low current shock so the victim lasts longer during torture..."_

_He looked at the hilt, and switched it on. The end made a buzzing noise as he looked back at Stan._

_"Kiss him, or I'll use this on him." _

**Stan Marsh:** Stan stared at the weapon, and then looked at Clyde. "...okay, just picture Bebe, because I'm not letting you die from electric shock, okay."

**Clyde Donovan: **"On me?" Clyde's heart started racing, there was no way he would want that thing touching him or even going remotely close to him. Tears formed in his eyes, fearing for what would happen. Under his breath Clyde repeatedly breath, "No, please, no." The boy then looked up at Stan, hearing his acceptance to the man's words. He felt relieved; maybe the man would let them both go after one simple kiss? "O-okay, Bebe...Gotcha...uhh..."

**Stan Marsh: **Stan hesitated, his eyes drifting back over to the insane man with human cattle prod, then back to Clyde. For a split second, he wondered if he could take the rod from the man without getting electrocuted. He looked like he didn't really lift weights, he could totally take him. But were there other people in the house? He looked back to Clyde, the edge of his lips twitching slightly at thinking of having to kiss Donovan. ...naked.

He leaned over, gave the other a quick peck on the cheek, and then glared stubbornly at the man.

_"...try again." _

**Stan Marsh:** "...try again, what. No. That was a kiss. You said a kiss, you didn't tell me what type of kiss."

_The man held the picana's tip dangerously close to Stan's leg, and then said, "...or should I zap him instead." _

**Stan Marsh:** "Okay, what the hell do you want. Seriously. This is s-"

_Before Stan could finish his sentence, the man leaned forwards and pressed the picana against his shin- electrocuting the other shortly. It was on a low voltage, so it wasn't anymore than an electric dog collar zap. _

**Stan Marsh:** Yelping after being zapped, Stan grabbed his shin and winced as he let go of Clyde. "What the fuck! Okay, fine,"

He looked over at Clyde, and then pressed his lips against the other's for a few seconds before letting go of his face.

"There, leave us alone!"

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde's eyes widened after being kissed. It wasn't because Stan had kissed him, twice in different places, it was due to the fact that that man did and would shock them. He unknowingly grabbed Stan's hand, his own quaking in fear. He swallowed harshly, before struggling to say, "S-so, we can go now, right? Please say yes..." The last of his words were mumbled, hoping the man wouldn't be able understand.

_"Grab his cock." The man said, motioning towards Clyde with the prod._

**Stan Marsh:** "You sick fuck. No. Shock the fuck out of me, I don't care. No." Stan repeated, his voice shaking as he felt Clyde grab his hand, hearing his frightened voice gave him some sort of strength. "Fuck you."

_"You want me to shock him?"_

**Stan Marsh:** "...If you shock him I am going to grab that thing and shove it straight up your sick minded ass." Stan said plainly, his voice unwavering.

_"That's the sort of attitude I like..." He said with a smile, looking towards Clyde. "You grab his cock, and I won't shock you." _

**Clyde Donovan: **"N-no fucking way, you sick fuck!" Clyde yelled in protest. A kiss was bad enough, how the fuck was he supposed to grab Stan's cock? He shook his head, but then remembered what tool the man head on him, the picana. He sat there frozen in fear and at a loss of what to do. The last thing he wanted was for Stan to get hurt again, but he really didn't want to lose anymore of his dignity. But with a shaky voice, Clyde said, "I..I'm sorry," giving into the idea of having Stan safe. The boy said he'd protect him, so Clyde needed to do the same. He leaned down close to Stan's cock, hesitantly reaching out his hand and grabbing it. "O-oh God..." The tears started pouring out of his eyes, his sniffles not so quiet.

**Stan Marsh: **Stan froze when he heard Clyde apologize. Oh no. Oh no no no, that was not good- he looked down at Clyde's hand moving towards his private area, and he felt sick to his stomach. "Clyde, no," He said as he hoped the other would stop, but he did it anyways. His face turned red as he looked towards the wall, trying to imagine he wasn't here right now. With his muscles tensing, he reached down and removed Clyde's hand, since he wasn't really gripping as much as he was holding.

_"Leave it."_

**Stan Marsh:** Stan stared at the other, holding Clyde's wrist. He moved Clyde's hand to Clyde's leg, and then he stood up and walked over to the man and grabbed the wand forcefully.

_Sensing Stan was going to rebel, the man had moved from the bed, but the picana was now in Stan's hand. "Off." _

**Stan Marsh:** "No." He said, his eyes watery. "Fuck you."

_"If you don't remove your hand, the next time I come in here it'll be with a gun." The man said with no humor in his voice; just simply a command._

**Stan Marsh:** Stan hesitated, looking down at the weapon, and then back at the man. "I want clothes."

_"Done. Hand off now."_

**Stan Marsh:** He let go of the the picana.

_With one swoop, the man held up the prod and then bludgeoned Stan over the head with it, causing him to fall on the floor. He turned on his heel and exited the room with the picana, and grabbed his kimono before he went out the door. _

**Clyde Donovan: **"S-Stan?" Clyde peered down at the boys limp body spread out on the floor. He waited a few seconds before calling out his name again. Still no answer. With the tears still streaming out of his eyes, Clyde slid off the bed and crouched down beside Stan. "Hey, Stan. This...This isn't funny...Stan?" He shook the boy's body, but there was no response. "N-No, dude, no please. I need you right now, fucking please...God, why is this happening." Clyde figured it would be some time before Stan woke up, but he feared that the man would come in once again. Feeling like it was his duty to protect Stan, he took one of the sheets the man had pulled off of them and threw it lightly over the boy. He then leaned against the edge of the bed, his hands covering his eyes in shame, as he waited the day away.

**- Kitchen at Vacation House -**

**Token Black:** Finishing his short but heart-wrenching phone call, Token walked back into the kitchen with his mug still full. He looked at Kenny with a frown, and then realized that he had to tell everyone in the house what happened to Stan and Clyde. He glanced towards Craig, and seeing how shaken up he is he feels a little emotional himself. With a shakey sigh, Token reached up and took his bluetooth out of his ear as he looked at Kenny.

"Kenny, Stan and Clyde are missing...we're trying to find them but they've disappeared, we think they might have been kidnapped. The bodyguards didn't follow because they thought Stan gave them the signal to not follow, and they lost them."

**Kenny McCormick: **Kenny raises an eyebrow. He could tell Craig was hiding something and brushed his hair the wrong way. As he was about to make a smart remark at him, Token returned to the room. Fucking. Fuck. France. There was already enough shit going on, and the two idiots went and got lost? What were they thinking leaving the house, anyway? And what the fuck was everyone standing around for? And- was Craig okay? Kenny's head was swimming worse than it had been the night before and it made him feel sick. Well, there goes eating. He wanted to do five things at once: Run out of the house, hug Craig, punch Token, run to tell Kyle, and scream and yell. He took a few shaky breaths. "Why are we standing in the kitchen, exactly?" Kenny said in a voice that seemed laced with poison or disgust.

**Craig Tucker:** "They left because who the fuck knows why. Did you see them yesterday? Before they left?" Craig asks, looking up at Kenny but not meeting his eye directly. There's no way he could look anyone in the eye right now, because then they'd see how actually messed up he is instead of kind of upset like he probably looks.

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny glared intently at Craig, and proceeded to get quite irritated that he wasn't looking him in the eye. "Yeah. I did. Your boyfriend was out having a smoke with me. He came inside to go "talk" to you, Token," his attention shifted to said person, "And that was it. Did he ever go punch you in the face? If not, then I'm the last one to see him. I ask again. What the fuck are we doing. Standing in the kitchen. You'd better have every person in France after him if you can STAND here drinking fucking COFFEE, Token. What the fuck were you two doing while they went missing LAST NIGHT, huh? D'you woo Craig over into your pants, too?" The last thing Kenny wanted was to have gotten mad enough to actually say something to Token, but this had to be some sort of exception to his rule. Their friends were missing. There were no rules left to be followed.

**Token Black:** "No..." Token said tiredly, and sipped his coffee despite Kenny insulting him for drinking it. Setting it on the counter, he shook his head and held out a hand as if to calm Kenny down from a distance. "Look, Kenny, I have people looking for him, we can't go out and haphazardly go around France trying to track down two lost people, we could get wrapped up into it too..there's professionals, and they're looking for them. And about last night - that alcohol I had was 55% alcohol, and I'm sorry, I should have researched it but the flight was long..." He recalled making out with Wendy - oh yeah, that flight was long. He didn't really sleep at all, maybe that was why he had that moment of bad judgment. "Look, I'm sorry. I can't apologize enough. But there's nothing we can do right now besides wait on phone calls, and I need to go to some offices but they require having clearance to enter so I can't take you guys...but I'm sorry, Kenny, look, really. I am." He put a hand on his chest, as if it would accentuate his apology. "I am truly sorry about what I did to Kyle, I would have never done that if I had been sober, and I am deeply embarrassed I did it drunk. But that will never happen ever again."

**Craig Tucker:** Craig just watches their back and forth, not really feeling much like talking. He just wants whatever needs to be done to be done because he really doesn't know how much longer he can just stand there. His hands grip at the edge of the counter he's leaning on, and the corners hurt as they bite hard into his hands, but he doesn't care. Fucking how will these people ever find Stan and Clyde? If they don't… if they don't he doesn't even know what he'll do. They have to find them…

**Kenny McCormick:** "You want me to sit and wait on phonecalls?" Kenny shouted to him. Damn he was lucky token was out of arm's reach. "I don't give a fuck what these people's titles are. Professionals, experts, fucking gods, WHY haven't they found them yet if they're so good at it? WHY are our friends still lost in France, WHY does it seem to me like you're only JUST contacting people NOW? Stop fucking apologizing! Yeah, you were going to fuck Kyle and believe me, I'm pissed beyond belief about it, but that isn't what fucking matters right now." he turned on the spot and continued to yell at them as he walked away. "I'm getting my pants, I'm getting my hoodie, I'm lighting a smoke, and I'm going to find them. Feel free to provide me with a map or not, but I'm not going to fucking stand around twiddling my thumbs when our friends are probably getting raped and killed."

**Token Black:** "Kenny, stop," Token said strictly, following the other and putting a hand on his shoulder. Whirling the other to face him, he gripped his shoulders tightly as he stared at him with the most serious expression he could manage while still hungover.

"Kenny, I've been in these situations before. The world is fucking huge. You can't search better than trained bodyguards with devices to look through buildings and clearance to get in places that are locked. You can't take on mobs. You just can't. And if you want to punch me in the face for what I did to Kyle, do it. But I'm not letting you go out there without me, if you want to search I'm going to be right there, okay. They have been searching all night, and I have been calling investigators since I woke up when I realized they might be out of country. This is serious. I will not fucking sleep again until Stan and Clyde are found, but I can't do anything when I'm trying to keep you from ending up in the same situation. They might be targeting this house, I don't know. But Kenny, please. Please just help me, don't go against me, this will make it more complicated and right now, we all need to work together to find Stan and Clyde."

**Kenny McCormick:** Kenny did stop. He stopped to think. He wasn't really listening to a word Token was saying. Letting his head cool off when he took a deep breath, he calmly took Token's hand off of his shoulder and sulked his way to Craig. Wrapping an arm up around his head, he pulled him down to kiss him on the head and murmured, "I'm sorry," before whispering even quieter, low enough for only Craig to hear, "I'll find them. I promise they'll come back in one piece. I can't see you like this, man. I can't." And with that, Kenny passed out of the kitchen and passed Token again. "I'm getting dressed and calling my sister. I'll just stay in my room like a good little puppy."

**Craig Tucker:** Craig impulsively goes after Kenny, catching him by the arm before he can get too far out of the room. He can't deny that the forehead kiss made him a little uncomfortable, but he still doesn't want anything bad to happen here. He leans in close, speaking quietly so Token still can't hear. "Kenny, no, what if they get you too? Since Stan and Clyde were together, they might still be together but if I – we lost you too, we might never find you. So… don't go doing something stupid," he whispers. He really, really doesn't want Kenny to go out there too. If Kenny wants to help, he's sure they can find a way for him to help, but he doesn't want Kenny going off on his own. He'd be even more messed up if Kenny got fucking kidnapped, too. He pulls him into a hug that he hopes will calm the other down and convince him not to fucking go outside. "We'll find them okay? Relax. Just… don't go looking for them on your own."

**Token Black:** Token rarely lost his cool, but hearing Kenny tell him that he would stay in his room like a 'good puppy' made him irritated on multiple levels. With a scowl on his face, he said loudly, "You know what? Okay. Whatever. Go around France. Get killed. I don't have time for your drama, Kenny, I'm going to go find my fucking friends. And the coffee?" He picked up the mug, and then let it drop on the floor, splashing up on his white pants. "Fuck the coffee. You happy? Probably not, but I don't give a shit."  
He turned on his heel and grabbed the keys from the key rack, and then walked out onto the patio to circle around the house to where the cars were.

**Craig Tucker:** He tightens his hug on Kenny, saying a quick, "Don't even listen to him, okay? He's just really, _really _worried and he doesn't want to have another missing person on his hands. He doesn't want you to get killed, and neither do I."

**Kenny McCormick:** Having Craig hold him was definitely calming; even if it just wanted to make him cry, but Token... He just set him the fuck off. He tried to pry himself away from Craig to yell and scream at Token, but he was already gone, anyway. So, he just let them stand there for a little while longer while he gathered himself back up. "I have to go talk to Kyle." Kenny said in a small voice so that it wouldn't crack. He didn't break the hug yet, and at that moment didn't really want to. Being held like this felt like it was holding him in one piece and it was fucking nice.

**Craig Tucker:** Craig just stands there for a while, hugging the shit out of Kenny for both their sakes. When Kenny mentions Kyle, though, he loosens his hold considerably. "Uh, yeah. Do you want me to go with you to tell him, or? Like I don't want to leave you alone if you're upset or something," he says. AS upset as Craig is, he's glad that he and Kenny are actually speaking again. After Craig got with Stan, the only reason Kenny would talk to him was to threaten suicide. So this is a… well not a _nice _change, but a change from that. And he wants to make sure he's there for Kenny this time, where he couldn't before.

**- Kenny and Kyle's room in Vacation House -**

**Kenny McCormick:** "No," Kenny responds, though it seems a little quick. Too quick. He notices, however and tries to play it off, so that it's obvious he means no offense. "N-no... Thanks, though... It means... a lot." Things still felt rather awkward to him, but Kenny knew there was no grudge to be held. It was pretty pointless to hold one, anyway. He turned and hesitated slightly. What about Craig? Was he okay? If Kenny was going to... Would Craig be okay by himself? Kenny hissed at himself and put a hand in his hair. Either way, he had to tell Kyle. He finally walked back up to their room and pulled his phone from a bag before he sat on the bed and began to try gently waking Kyle up. Hitting call over the name Karen(even though it was just the house phone), Kenny put the phone up to his ear while he was rubbing Kyle's back. Thank god, she didn't answer... Talking to her would probably break Kenny's heart. "Hey, it's Kenny... I wanted to leave a message saying I love you, Kare, and I miss you..."

**Kyle Broflovski:** Feeling the light rub on his back, Kyle opened his eyes, blinking several times before fully trying to stay awake. Looking aimlessly at the wall while loving the feeling of being stroked on the back, Kyle mumbled, "Screw it," then closed his eyes once again and snuggled into the warm blankets. There was no way he wanted to get up right now, he was still tired and his head hurt like a bitch. Wait-why did his head hurt? Kyle jolted up from his pillow, pressing his hands against his head in pain. "Ahh...Goddamnit, why the fuck...What happened last night?"

**- Kitchen at the Vacation House -**

**Craig Tucker:** Craig sighs again once Kenny leaves. He doesn't know what to do with himself now that Token has stormed out. Should he really just sit around and wait for Token's call? Or what is he even supposed to do? Token didn't make it very clear before he left, so what is he supposed to do now? He's not going to sleep, or enjoy any of the house's luxuries, or hang out with Kenny and Kyle, so where the actual fuck should he go? He hazily make sit back to his own room and shuts the door behind himself. He sits near the window and just watches outside, his chin leaning in his palm. It's only just barely morning on the first day there, and this shit already happened.

**Kenny McCormick: **Kenny held up a hand to signal he was on the phone and quickly pressed another to his eye to catch the tear before it got to run down his cheek. It was all fucking stressful. Vacations were supposed have good feelings, not these shitty ones. He mentioned a few more things that were directed at Karen and ended it with an uncharacteristic, "Goodbye," before turning to Kyle.

"Kyle... there's... There's bad shit going on. Stan and Clyde, they're... Well... They aren't here. Fuck..." Kenny ran a hand through his hair in a stressful way. "They were kidnapped or some shit. No one knows where they are."

**- Italy -**

_After an hour passed, the man came in wearing a robe - but he had a pile of clothes with him. He threw them at Clyde, and then turned and exited the room again, slamming the door shut. The pile had two pink gowns in it._

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde was crouching, his knees pulled close to him and his head bowed down into them. He heard the man enter the room, so he lifted his head up a little so he could keep watch and prepare for the worst. Though to his surprise, the man only threw clothes at him and then left. Clyde picked one of the pieces of cloth up, holding it out to reveal that it was a gown. He hurriedly threw them on. Never in his life had he felt so joyous for having clothes on him. He then bent back down to Stan, shook him a little and said, "Stan...Stan, get up. He gave us clothes. Stan?"

**Stan Marsh: **"Ugnnnnnnnnnnnnn," Stan said after a few more shakes, and his hand went out to grab his head. "What the fuck hit me over the head, dude," He opened one eye, wincing at the light. The dull throbbing in his head made him wonder if he needed medicine...then he realized this wasn't his room, anywhere. And he could feel a pain in his foot now- he realized he had been laying wrong on that goddamned shackle around his ankle. He looked at the pile of clothes, and then at a clothed Clyde. Thank GOD.

He grabbed the gown and put it on, even despite the stupid pink hue.

"Jesus Christ, we're probably in a prostitution ring," He said as he looked worriedly at Clyde, and his hand went back to his head as he scooted back towards his bed a bit - just so his foot wasn't in agony anymore from the chain being elongated. "We need to get out..."

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde joined him by the bed, leaning fairly close to Stan. He then cocked his brow at Stan's words and quietly said, "Prostitute..ring? No..you don't think..." A little fear struck in his eyes, hoping and praying that wasn't true. He crossed his legs, his hands fidgeting against one another. He was once again worried; not that he wasn't already before. He didn't want to rain of Stan's parade, but from what he saw, there was no way or chance of escaping. So with a troubled voice, full of regret, he said, "I don't think we're getting out anytime soon..."

**Stan Marsh: **Stan looked at Clyde, and then back at the walls. If there hadn't been bars on the window, he would have tried flinging something in the room at the window to try and break the glass. Unfortunately, there were bars. He looked around for the exit he had seen the man walk through - well, the chains probably wouldn't let either of them walk that far. His lips were pursed as he looked at the wall, desperate to find something that might be something of use.

"Wait...look, there's a bunch of lotion or something there," He said as he got up from the bed, and walked over to a nightstand next to Clyde's bed. Pulling out the drawers, he found it was full of bondage items- things he had seen in the store with Craig, and some others he wondered how the hell they even put it on. Wait, no, he didn't want to think about how it worked. Shutting the drawers, he grabbed the lotion and walked back to Clyde's bed, and sat down. He opened the cap and started squirting the white lotion on his leg, near the shackle, and he lathered it in and then tried bending his foot through the metal.

**Clyde Donovan: **He followed suit, taking the bottle and squeezing as much as he could onto his chained leg. Then after smoothing it out all around the chained area, he started trying to pry the mental off. No luck. He continued to do so, hoping his foot would slip out, but it was starting to make his leg hurt an awful lot. Although it had only been a short amount of time, Clyde let his hands go limp, leaning back on the bed and saying, "Fuck...this isn't working. Ugh, God."

**Stan Marsh: **Stan wasn't so easily deterred once his foot started hurting - he was pretty sure the metal was cutting into him, but he wanted it _off_. With solid determination, he pulled, turned, added more lotion, and then felt the cuff slipping. There was now blood mingling with the white lotion, but he didn't care. As long as it was off, he could walk around the room and find a way out. With one powerful yank, he let out a strangled gasp as he let the metal hit the floor. Blood pooled around his foot as he let it fall on the floor, and he breathed heavily as he looked at Clyde. "Okay, I'm going to find a way out, and I'm going to be back with the keys, okay."

**Clyde Donovan: **"Dude..." Clyde stared at Stan's foot in horror. There was no way he was going to do that. Just looking at it made his ankle burn with pain. He breathed heavily, not enjoying the sight of blood, but mustered up the words to say, "Stan, no...Why can't we both just wait here. Who knows what's out there. What if he's standing right by the door, oh my God. Stan don't leave."

**Stan Marsh: **"And wait here? And let him like, rape us eventually? No, Clyde, I'm going out that fucking door. I'll just...uh, I'll take something heavy with me, in case he's there, okay? Just...stay." He said as he got up, his blood making sickening squishes as he stepped away. He was trailing blood everywhere, and he just now realized that it might be a little bit too much blood loss. He picked up the sheets off the floor - those nice white sheets- and pushed them against his leg, tying one up so it looked like a sheet-boot.

"Okay, I'll be back, all right."

Stan slowly made his way over to the door, and opened it. He was shocked to find that it was indeed a sliding door, but on the other side, there was a huge metal frame door that required a key. He looked at it, and then back into the room, and then back at the metal door. What. The. Fuck. Vaguely thinking of the Saw films, he looked around for something to pick the lock with - but then realized it had no key hole. What. He moved towards it, and felt around the door. This had to be some sort of trick, right?

"Clyde, I think this guy is a psychopath," He said back towards the room, and looked around the small walkway for something that indicated a key, or a door, or something that would let him out. When he didn't find it, he walked back into the room, and looked around. He was starting to feel hungry - they hadn't eaten all day.

"Clyde...I couldn't find a way out, there's a fucking metal door. This guy has a fucking sliding door, masking a fucking metal door, just to be a total douche and make us think that it'd be easy to get out. Fuck."

He walked back to the bed, and sat down on the edge near Clyde. "I can't believe it. I **am** cursed. I'm just bad luck, I swear."

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde just stayed put frowning in silence as he watched the boy head off to the door. No more than a few minutes had passed by before Stan came back. He raised a brow, questioning his return only to find out about the locked door. He just stared idly at the space in front of him, once again being overcome with defeat. Staying silent for several minutes more, he finally stood up and sat close to Stan on the bed. "Well...that's fucking great. We're going to die here and probably get raped before that or some shit-God, I don't even know anymore! We're going to die here Stan. Fucking die." With the sudden burst of emotion, Clyde bent down, wiping his eyes with the shoulder part of the shirt. God, how he hated this. He bet Token and Craig were searching for them, but there was no way they'd ever find them, considering they were locked away in Italy. "There's no way out, let's face it. No way..."

**Stan Marsh: **"Aw, dude, don't give up..." Stan tried comforting the other, realizing he had to stay strong or Clyde would make this ten times more miserable. He reached over and wrapped his arm around Clyde, and then hugged him close, and petted his hair with his hand. "Shhhh, dude, it'll be okay, we'll figure something out. Maybe we can like, knock him unconscious when he comes back, and then we can sneak out...and then we'll get away, okay? Or someone will find us. Don't give up, Clyde, okay?"

**Clyde Donovan: **Nodding, Clyde just focused on the security Stan was giving him. For some reason, it felt like Stan had always been there for him, just like Craig. Feeling a little reassured by the other's words, Clyde smiled lowly, loving every the feel of his hair being petted. "I hope that works...We could um..use.." His voiced trailed off as he turned slightly to find some sort of blunt object. There wasn't really anything in the room that would be of good use, he thought about using Stan's old shackle, but it was still attached to the bed. With a heavy sigh, Clyde burrowed his face back into Stan, saying, "I don't know..."

**Stan Marsh: **"Well...dude, I am really fucking tired but we shouldn't both sleep at the same time..." Really, the only time Stan had slept in the last thirty six hours was when he was unconscious from being hit over the head and drugged. He went from texting Kyle all the way to France on the plane, then to fun times in the tub with Craig, then being kidnapped. And now adding in hunger, he just wanted to sleep.

"Can you like...stay watch and wake me up if he comes in? Please? Then I'll do it for you, I swear." He looked down at his bloodied foot, wrapped up in the now stained red, used to be white sheet.

He moved to lay down on Clyde's bed, looking at the other uncertainly. He knew he shouldn't sleep, but the urge was overwhelming, and they were probably in for a lot more stuff ahead of them and he couldn't fight if he wasn't feeling strong enough from resting.

"Just, wake me up if he does something ok?"

**Clyde Donovan: **"Ah, yeah. Okay, dude. I'll keep watch..." As much as he wanted to decline Stan's notion, Clyde knew the boy had already been through enough for one day. His shoulders slumped, lost in thought and worry about what else could happen. He then peered down at Stan, watching the boy begin to sleep silently; oh how he wanted to sleep. But the boy just kept watch, staring idly at the door and occasionally taking a peep at Stan. It was tiresome and seemed to be dragging along longer than he thought. Yeah, it would have been nice if the man had given them a clock, but he knew there was no hope in that. Minutes passed and Clyde had unintentionally started fluttering his eyes every now and then, feeling the tiredness washing over him. He couldn't take it anymore, he mentally apologized to Stan and then cuddled right next to him, falling asleep in a matter of minutes.

_After twelve hours had passed, and it was just around morning of the next day - the door slid open, and a middle-aged man with a mustache and a leather cap came into the room, wearing tight leather pants and a leather vest. He looked over at the bed, seeing two sleeping forms. "Good morning," He said as he brought in a bag with food in it, intending on leaving it there for the two on the bed. _

_He froze as he neared the bed, recognizing one of the faces. "...Jesus __Christ__, is that Stanley Marsh?" He leaned over the two, identifying the face. Yes, this was Stanley Marsh, only older - but he still looked like the boy from fourth grade. With a horrified look on his face, he set the bag on the end of the bed and then reached over to shake the two awake. "Boys, wake up, you shouldn't be in a place like this. How did this happen? Jesus __Christ, __you should not be in the house of Peter Phile, why are you here?"_

**Stan Marsh:**Stan woke up unsteadily, and automatically reached out and whacked the hand away from Clyde before he worried about himself. "Don't touch him," He said on guard, his eyes narrowing at the person...What? "Mr. Slave?"

_"Boys, how did you get here?" _

**Clyde Donovan: **"Mr...wha..?" Clyde squinted his eyes, rolling over in his spot to see who the man was. Wait, was that-No, it couldn't be. " ?" Clyde stared up at the man, gravely confused. He hadn't seen that man in years and never really talked to him. But his voice and clothes were always so recognizable, so it had to be him. But what was he doing here in this room with them? Oh no..was he...no, of course not. He couldn't be part of the whole kidnapping situation. It was Mr. Fucking Slave after all. That guy always seemed so nice to others. But regardless of all that, Clyde feared him a little, hoping he wasn't here to shock and threaten them again. So because of that, Clyde inched closer to Stan.

**Stan Marsh: **"You're okay," Stan coaxed Clyde, sitting up and wrapping an arm protectively around the other. He kept his eyes on Mr. Slave though, wondering what part he was playing in this. Why would he be here?

_"I'm not here to do anything to you but bring you food, boys...Peter said he bought you from the black market, and I was wondering what you looked like - I didn't ...well, I know him from getting purchased a few years back after I went to Europe when I broke up with Big Gay Al, heheh...Jesus Christ, it's been awhile. Well, he let me go after a year because we started dating and broke up, so...But this is not a place where you should be, how on earth did you get in the black market? Were you wandering out at night?"_

**Stan Marsh:** "No, Clyde tried picking up a hooker," Stan said apathetically, though he was pretty much clinging on to Clyde at the moment.

_"Oh, they got you with the crossdressing man, did they? Oh, oldest trick in the book. Catch you off guard. Well, boys, I'll talk with Peter, but I don't think I can convince him to let-"_

_He looked down at Stan's leg, and he frowned as he said, "Jesus Christ, did you do that to yourself? Let me get you something to fix your foot with...but here, we'll talk for a minute on how to get you out of here. Uh...I think if you distract him with a promise, if you give me a week, I can contact your families and get them to hire investigators to raid this place, okay? So...well, Jesus Christ...just tell him that one of you will do the other and put on a show for him, and just act really touchie and feelie with each other when he's watching...put on an act. And for a reason, just say you're both virgins so you want to take it slow...he's a sucker for a story. Especially when virgins are involved." _

**Clyde Donovan: **Still in Stan's hold, Clyde stared at the man; his face full of shock. He tried to speak for a moment, but soon caught himself unable to speak fluent words. Touching Stan's dick was bad enough, but putting on a show for the man? Even if it was pretend? What kind of sick guy was this Peter Phile? Clyde continued to stare at Mr. Slave, still trying to process his words, but there was nothing. He just laid there in surprise, questioning everything that was going on. Several moments passed before he was able to cough up his words. He said, "You..want..._us_ to do...what...No. Fucking no! That's...the first two things were already horrible, but that..that's just..Oh God." He hated the thought of doing anything more with Stan other than snuggling with him for safety. There was just no way he'd do that.

_"Jesus Christ, you don't actually have to do the act, just pretend like you will eventually. He'll probably be distracted for a week if you act well," Mr. Slave stood up and walked out the door, disappearing. "I'll be back in ten minutes, let me go find something for you both."_

**- Elsewhere in Peter's House –**

**Mr. Garrison:** Hello?

**Mr. Slave:** Hi, Herbert.

**Mr. Garrison:** ...Mr. Slave? How the hell do you have my number?

**Mr. Slave:** Jesus Christ, I could never forget your number. I memorized it.

**Mr. Garrison:** ...Well, what do you want. Obviously this is a business call because you haven't called me to chitchat in years.

**Mr. Slave:** I'm in Italy and I ran into two of your ex-students. Stanley Marsh and Clyde Donovan.

**Mr. Garrison:** Yes?

**Mr. Slave:** They were sold on the black market to a rich Italian man named Peter Phile who I'm staying with for two days. I need to get them back home safely.

**Mr. Garrison:** Then put them on a plane and ship them back.

**Mr. Slave:** He has security here, he's a very influential man with a lot of money, Jesus Christ...I fear for their safety, we need someone to raid his mansion before they get hurt.

**Mr. Garrison:** Well then sneak them out.

**Mr. Slave:** Herbert, Mr. Phile has a kiln in the basement for incinerating pets that escape. So they can't even identify the bodies, Jesus Christ.

**Mr. Garrison:** Well that's convenient. Okay, what do you *propose* I do?

**Mr. Slave:** I want you to tell someone they know to hire someone to get them out, it's the only way to ensure their safety. I'll be gone in a day, so I can't do anything more for them then give them food. He's planning on starving them until they're obedient, so I'm sure they're going to suffer if we don't act soon.

**Mr. Garrison:** Damnit, I hate these idiot children.

**Mr. Slave:** You know you don't.

**Mr. Garrison:** I know. Well, don't tell anyone that. I'll see what I can do. Bye. -hangs up

**- Stan and Clyde's Room at Peter's House -**

**Stan Marsh:** Stan stared at Mr. Slave's receding form, and then looked at Clyde. "...I could act like that, if you're okay with it." He admitted, even though the idea of actually doing anything with Clyde revolted him. Not because Clyde wasn't attractive, but because he was Craig's best friend ever, and Stan would never do that to Craig - and plus, Clyde wasn't his type, at all.

"Just until we're out, ok. Like...it'll only be for this week, and then we'll be home, so...I'd rather not die, I don't think I'll do well in hell if I die and go there."

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde pondered what Stan had said; it did seem like a more plausible plan of escape than anything else right now. Regretfully, he sighed and nodded his head. "Yeah...I guess I'm okay with it. And I hope it's just a week, I don't think I'd be able to keep the act up any longer than that." He scratched his head, still worried about what might happen if they do this. But, sadly, if it was the only way for them to eventually escape, then it's what he'd have to do.

**Stan Marsh: **"Yeah...look, I wouldn't do this if I was the one getting hit, but I'm like...scared he might hurt you, and I don't want that, okay." Stan reassured Clyde, as if there were a possibility he was just jumping on the bandwagon to make out with Clyde freely. He didn't want the other to get any ideas - especially after he said he liked Kevin earlier, he didn't know if Clyde was totally straight despite his obsession with Bebe.

"So...just nothing below the waist, and...uh...don't give me hickies or anything," He said, wondering if he had to even voice that out loud. With a grimace, he added, "And...no tongue unless he's not believing us, then you can do it, but I might throw up, so..."

**Clyde Donovan: **"Don't worry about that. I'm not going anywhere near you uh..yeah...again." He grimaced at the thought of having to touch it again. Hopefully Peter would be satisfied with just the light kisses and pets. If not, Clyde didn't know what he'd do. At least this meant he could cuddle with Stan more; not that he enjoyed doing it or anything like that. Well, he enjoyed it, but definitely not in that way. Not at all. Clyde pressed his fingers against his lips, before saying, "But if we do have to use tongue...pinch me or something so I can like push you off before you puke your insides out on me. Ugh."

**Stan Marsh: **"Yeah, I'd be happy if you never d-" Stan was interrupted as Mr. Slave came back in, and he gave him an unamused look.

_Mr. Slave brought in a first aid kit, and sat down next to Stan and started undoing the sheet. He took out some bandages, and then cleaned up the wound with alcohol - which probably burned a bit. Wrapping it up after a few minutes, he reached in his pocket and took out a key, and turned to Clyde and unlocked the shackle on his foot. _

_"Okay, that's all I can do for you. Remember, act. I'm going to go now and make some phone calls, okay? Stanley Marsh and Clyde Donovan, right? I remember names, I'm sure that's right, Jesus Christ, I'm never wrong with a name."_

_He looked at Clyde, waiting for him to confirm._

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde rubbed his ankle, loving the feeling of being set free; well, somewhat free. He then nodded his head in reply to Mr. Slave and said, "Yeah, Clyde Donovan. That's right."

_"Okay, don't worry boys, I'll get you out of this." He turned and gestured at the bag of food and said, "There's some gyros in there for you both, I brought them when I heard he had bought...well, Jesus Christ. It's probably the only food you'll get for awhile, he likes starving people," He frowned as he walked out of the room, and left without another word. _

**- Vacation House –**

**Mr. Garrison: ***Phone Call

**Kenny McCormick: **M'hello?

**Mr. Garrison: **Hello McCormick. Where are you right now?

**Kenny McCormick: **Oh, hey, Mr. G. *heaves a heavy sigh* I'm in France, on "vacation" with some of the guys.

**Mr. Garrison: **Ah, I figured. Idiots travel in packs. So, did you lose Stanley on purpose or did he just wander off on his own?

**Kenny McCormick: **He wandered off on his damn own. Clyde's gone, too, the fucking idiots...

**Mr. Garrison: **Well they're in a lot of trouble. Did you get there from winning the lottery or something? Who took you idiots to a foreign country?

**Kenny McCormick: **Token did. And hey, I'm not the idiot who went out in an unknown city in a foreign country I don't know the language to at some ungodly hour of the night.

**Mr. Garrison: **You just associate yourself with that idiot, that's not as bad, right? You are what you hang out with, McCormick. Anyways, I know where they are.

**Kenny McCormick: **Y-you know where they are?

**Mr. Garrison: **Yes. I was woken up by a fucking phone call. I need you to ask Mr. Moneybags to get an investigator, uh, I don't know, or ninjas, who the fuck ever deals with idiots disappearing to dangerous rich men's homes to get them back.

**Kenny McCormick: **He's already got a bunch, as far as he's said... Just- Where are they? Are they okay? They're still- ...Alive.. right?

**Mr. Garrison: **Well, if they aren't, you're not getting the bodies back. Apparently the rich bastard has a human kiln in the basement to take care of boys that don't behave for him. I only have a name, so I need you to give that to Token so they can do a background check on this guy.

**Kenny McCormick: **Wha- A BACKGROUND check? You think there's TIME for a fucking BACKGROUND CHECK? You know DAMN well that Stan's not gonna "behave" for this sick fucker.

**Mr. Garrison: **A background check takes professionals two minutes, McCormick. Will you give the name to Token or not?

**Kenny McCormick: **Of course I'll give the name to Token, what the fuck is it?

**Mr. Garrison: **Peter Phile.

**Mr. Garrison: **He's in Italy.

**Kenny McCormick: **Italy? How the fuck- Fine, alright. I'm calling Token right fucking now.

**Kenny McCormick: **...Thanks, Mr. G.

**Mr. Garrison: **Your welcome. Keep me updated.

**Mr. Garrison: **Only during business hours, though. I don't like dealing with your shit during the night.

**Kenny McCormick: **Will do. *hangs up*

**- Stan and Clyde's Room at Peter's House -**

**Stan Marsh:**Once he was out of the room, Stan looked at Clyde, and then reached in the bag. Really, Mr. Slave had brought them more than enough food for two meals - four gyros, a huge two liter of water, a bag of apples and bananas.

"I'll hid it under a bed so the guy doesn't know we have it...uh, but," He pulled out two apples and then two chicken gyros, and set them on the bed. "Those are for us, for now..." After tossing the two liter of water out, he put the bag under the bed half folded so nothing got in it.

Sitting back on the bed cross legged, trying to avoid touching his foot or pressing it against anything, he looked at Clyde as he picked up a gyro. "Uh...so...what do you want to talk about?"

**Clyde Donovan: **He eyed the food, a little confused as to what they were. It was definitely no tacos, but he guessed he'd just have to settle for this unknown food. He picked up one of the gyros, eyed it and took a bite. Not bad, but could be better. He shrugged it off and then turned his attention to Stan, and said with his mouth half full, "Dunno, dude. Uh...how are you and the Tuckster doing?"

**Stan Marsh: **"Ugh..." Stan said as he bit into a gyro after Clyde did, and he rolled his eyes. Only Clyde could talk to Stan about his boyfriend after grabbing his dick in the last twenty for hours. It still bothered him, and he didn't want to talk about Craig for fear he would jinx their getting free and never go home again to him.

"We're...okay. But we like...had a fight I think before I left, I just ...I don't know. I miss him."

Wanting to change the topic, he said, "So how are you and Bebe?"

**Clyde Donovan: **"That sucks...but I miss him too...and Bebe..." He frowned at the mention of Bebe. Last time Clyde had seen her, she was crying in his arms, worrying about her mom in the hospital. Well, that wasn't such a fond memory to remember. He bit his lip, beginning to worry about the blonde and knowing he couldn't do anything about his. So in a small voice, Clyde said, "Bebe..she's..uh...We're fine." He bowed his head sadly and stared at the remaining part of his gyro.

**Stan Marsh: **"...so...uh." He chewed slowly, and then looked up at Clyde and frowned.

"...if that guy comes back in, just...don't do what he says, okay. Because that whole...yeah...Uh. I don't hate you for it, don't get me wrong, he forced you into it, but...let's just be more crafty about this, ok?" He knew that was difficult with Clyde - he was wondering if Clyde would blurt out the plan to the guy when he came back in.

**Clyde Donovan: **"Oh God, I hope he just forgets about us and doesn't come back in here...I don't know what I'd do..." Oh, wait. He probably shouldn't have said that. It probably sounded bad considering what Stan had just said. He took another quick bite of his gyro and said, "What..I'd do if he ..uh..." He wasn't sure how to cover that up, so instead he pouted and began to say, "Just...just don't worry about it. Okay, Stan? I've got this..."

**Stan Marsh: **"Okay," Stan said, though he sounded uneasy. He looked at the other cautiously, and then narrowed his eyes slightly as he looked back down at the apples. He had finished his gyro, and now he was wondering how long it would be before the man came back into the room and harassed them again. God, how he wished he could talk to someone to tell them they were here - anyone. On some level, he was glad Clyde was here - if he was here alone, he would probably not be so strong. Having Clyde here made him protective and ready to attack if someone hurt him. Even if it hurt himself, which Stan thought might be equally as bad, but...at least Clyde was safe.

"I miss Craig so much...I just want to go back to the vacation house. No, I want to go back to the plane. Fuck France, I never want to go here again. ...wait, no. Fuck Italy. Ugh."

He heard a clicking noise, and his eyes widened. "Oh shit, Clyde, hide the food." He grabbed everything off the bed and jumped to the floor -hurting his foot again with a grimace as he shoved it under the bed, then stood up. "Just...get rid of that," He said as he motioned to the other's sandwich.

**Clyde Donovan: **"Hmm?-OH. Oh no. Fuck. Uhm..." Clyde's eyes darted from wall to wall, to the floor -everything. He then saw no other choice other than stuffing the whole gyro in his mouth. He could have thrown it under the bed, but it would have been dirtied. Now with his face stuffed with Greek food, he tried to sit as naturally as he could on the bed, once again leaning close to Stan out of fear. What he unfortunately over looked was the noticeable amount of food left around his mouth. So, not noticing that, he looked at Stan, giving him a quick thumbs up to indicate that he was ready for whatever was going to happen.

**Stan Marsh: **Stan turned to look at the door, and then back at Clyde - and witnessed the horrifying sight of FOOD on his MOUTH. He froze in the presence of his impending panic mode setting in, and he quickly crawled up on the bed, attempting at first to smear the food off of Clyde's face. Then he heard the door slide. Fuck. Cover. Clyde. Now.

He lunged forwards, his hands going on either side of Clyde's face as he licked the food off of him, feeling himself die on the inside. God. Damnit. Clyde. He finished 'grooming' the other, and pulled away only to see the creepy man standing there, watching them from afar in a bathrobe.

_"...so I see you're active when I'm not present." He commented with a smile on his lips as he slinked over to the bed, moving with a catlike grace as he sat at the end._

**Stan Marsh:** Stan swallowed once, not really needing to but growing nervous as he looked at Clyde. God, he still looked like he had food in his mouth - he was sure the man hadn't seen his face, so Stan turned and promptly sat on Clyde's lap. His face was red but he was determined to play the part that Mr. Slave indicated would work.

"Uh. ...yeah. Well, if we have to like...do stuff, then...we'll do it, but we're both uh..." He really was trying to lie, but it was difficult. "...we're virgins, so_..." Goddamnit, why do I have to suck so much at lying?_, he thought with some frustration. But this guy didn't know them, so maybe he wouldn't notice.

"We'll...do stuff with each other, but you have to like...give us time to comply, because we're...uh...we're...new to it."

_"Should I give you instructions, then?" He said with a smile, looking at how Stan was sitting on Clyde._

**Stan Marsh:** "...no...we know, we're just...getting used to each other...uh."

**Clyde Donovan: **Wait..What? What the fuck was Stan doing? Was he being in character already or...? Clyde didn't protest to what Stan had done, though he grimaced horribly afterwards. Wiping his cheek while Stan spoke, he stared at his hand in disgust but tried his hardest to ignore it. Then hurriedly chewing the gyro in his mouth while trying not to make it seem to obvious, Clyde gave a 'Mhm' in agreement to what Stan had told Peter. Then finally chowing down the last of it, he said, "Yeah. Straight up virgins. We're uh...we're open to...anything?"

**Stan Marsh: **Stan promptly elbowed Clyde in the chest at his 'we're open to anything' comment - why the hell would he say that, didn't he know how much that opened him up to? Stan had learned his lesson by saying 'I'll do anything' to Damien - and now Clyde was making him walk into it AGAIN.

With a distraught expression on his face, he tried correcting Clyde and said, "Uh...we...we're open to anything with each other, yeah. But...uh...please give us time to...uh...figure it out. If we're like, staying here forever, wouldn't it be better if we were...um, okay with it and did things like you said?"

_The man stared at Stan, and then looked at Clyde with an equally unsettling calmness. _

_Then he walked over to the wall near the door, and clicked a switch. The cage started descending from the ceiling, and it hit the floor with a slight clamor. "You," He said to Stan, "In." _

**Stan Marsh:** "What. No." Stan said as he reached backwards to grab onto Clyde's arms protectively. "No, I'm not leaving Clyde. Fuck you."

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde pulled himself close to Stan; it was definitely easy to read the worry off of his face. He to grabbed a hold of Stan's arms, tightening his grip in refusal to ever let go. Then looking at the man, he said in the most serious, yet shaky voice he could muster, "Stan's staying here with me. There's no fucking way you're separating us."

_The man didn't say anything; he just reached in his pocket and pulled out a pistol and pointed it at Stan._

_"Get in the cage before I put a hole through your chest."_

**Stan Marsh:** "Jesus Christ!" Stan said loudly, gripping Clyde tightly - he was pretty sure he was hurting the other but he didn't want to let go. It took him a moment longer because he was figuratively scared out of his skin, but he finally stuttered, "N-no! I'm not getting away from Clyde! Do it, s-shoot me!"

_He turned and shot off a round at the wall - it went through it. _

**Stan Marsh:** Jumping at the sound, Stan backed up more into Clyde.

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde yelped at the sound; this man was serious. He held Stan firmly, but couldn't help but think that Stan going in the cage was the best option. He bit the inside of his cheek, once again feeling the pressure building up behind his eyes. He took a step back, pulling Stan back a little as well, he leaned up close to the other boy's ear and quietly said, "Stan...he's going to kill us. He might kill _you_. Please Stan, just..just do why he says. I don't want you getting hurt of fucking dying."

**Marsh: **"Not moving," Stan said, shaking as he held onto Clyde. "Not even for a gun, I'm not moving."

_"Don't be an idiot, move into the cage." The man said sternly, and motioned towards the cage again. _

**Stan Marsh:** "Only if Clyde goes in with me." He said, even though he didn't want that either.

_The man contemplated this for a moment, and then motioned again. "Both in the cage."_

**Stan Marsh:** Slowly detaching himself from Clyde, he looked at the other, wondering if he would go with him. Stan wasn't afraid of being in the cage, but leaving Clyde outside of it defenseless - if they were both in a cage, well...then they were both in a cage.

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde was hoping for a different kind of solution, but he guessed this worked just as well. He quickly reattached himself to Stan, though realizing he'd have to let go so they could both go in. He gulped just before climbing in after Stan; the cage looked awfully taunting, but he proceeded inside anyways.

_Right as Clyde went in after Stan, the man reached in and grabbed onto Clyde's hair and yanked him back outside the cage. He slammed the door shut and it locked; and then he pushed Clyde on the ground. Walking over to the wall he hit the button to raise the cage again, the gun still in his hand._

**Stan Marsh:** "What- FUCK, NO! Clyde! Goddamnit, open," He rattled the door, but it was fastened. Fuck. "Clyde, shit! Fuck, that was stupid- goddamnit, I hate you, if you touch him I'm going to fucking kill you, you fucking sick fuck!"

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde landed harshly on the ground, his side slamming into the floor painfully. He cringed, but sucked up the pain so he could get back up. Narrowing his eyes at the man, Clyde started to yell, "FUCK YOU. Let Stan go! This isn't fucking fair you fucking asshole!" He suddenly stopped, realizing yelling g the man wasn't entirely best for one in his position right now. His angry expression faded to one of distraught and horror as he backed away to the bed, repeatedly wishing for Stan's release.

**Stan Marsh: **"Clyde, goddamnit," Stan turned to pound his feet against the side of the cage, but it only rocked as the thing clinked to a stop. Looking down the edge, he could see Clyde backing away, and he reached through the door to try and mess with the lock. "Fuck, fuck," He muttered as he clawed at the mechanism, but couldn't break it.

_"Kneel." He said to Clyde, motioning the gun towards the space in front of him._

**Stan Marsh:** "Oh, fuck no, don't do it Clyde. Let me do it. Let me switch, you bastard," He yelled as he turned to jiggle the bars again, frustrated with their squeaking but not giving in.

**Clyde Donovan: **"K-kneel?" He stared at the man for a long moment's time. Even though the man just used the gun to motion him over, he could still shoot him at any time. His heart was racing and his head had started pounding from all the unwanted adrenaline. Not only that, but his hands were shaking and somewhat becoming slick with sweat. He was frozen in his spot, unable to do what the man had demanded he do. But no, this wasn't a good position to be in. He took a few deep breaths in, it didn't help much but he could focus better now. Slowly, he lowered himself to the floor, while pleading, "Please, please, please. Oh God, please don't hurt Stan."

_"Were you eating something when I came in the room." The man asked plainly, ignoring Clyde's begging. He held the gun out to the side, but now brought it forwards, aiming it at Clyde's shoulder. _

_"Mind what you say." _

**Stan Marsh:** "Where the fuck would we get food!" Stan yelled at the man angrily, even though it was probably the most convincing lie he ever sounded serious about. Damnit, he wanted to be where Clyde was right now - just so he didn't have to watch him tremble where he was, it was nerve-wracking and he wanted this to stop.

**Clyde Donovan: **He looked off to where Stan was, hoping he'd find some reassurance, but he was wrong. Stan looked like he was about to go into hysterics over what was happening, and who could blame him? Clyde then faced the man, only to be greeted by a familiar metal object. "Oh my God..." The gun was pointing right at him. He could feel himself about to have a breakdown, but he tried to hold it all in so he could answer the man. He fidgeted with his fingers, feeling so nervous, but he finally shook his head and denied that he had eaten food.

_Showing his irritation, the man turned the gun around and then whacked Clyde with the hilt - it wouldn't knock him out, but it would hurt. He turned, but said loudly, "You're going to do what I want tomorrow or I'm throwing you both in a fire- no one will ever know how you died." He opened the sliding door and then threw it shut as he left. _

**- Vacation House –**

**Kenny McCormick: ***Calling*

**Token Black: **Hello? I'm in traffic right now, I can't talk long, who is this?

**Kenny McCormick: **Kenny. We have a name, Garrison told me.

**Token Black: **A name for who? Garrison told you what?

**Kenny McCormick: **The name of who has our fucking friends, Token.

**Token Black: **What's the name?

**Kenny McCormick: **Some asshole all the way in fucking Italy named Peter Phile.

**Token Black: **Italy? Jesus Christ, they already got them over the border...Okay, I'll contact people.

**Token Black: **Bye.

**Token Black: **/hangs up

**- Stan and Clyde's Room at Peter's House -**

**Stan Marsh:** "Fuck. Clyde, are you ok? Clyde!" Stan pressed his head against the bars to see the other, feeling his heart thump in his chest.

**Clyde Donovan: **Crying out in pain, Clyde leaned against the bed, pressing his hands firm against his injury. He was just a mess right now, whimpering, crying, feeling insecure. Stan, his only form of security left, was locked in a fucking cage. A locked one at that. He curled his legs close to his chest, trying to ride out the pain and began crying to Stan. "I want to go home. I want go back to our fucking redneck town, I want Craig, I want Token, I want Tweek, I want my dad, my dog, Bebe...just...everyone. I can't even have you now. God, I hate this, Stan I hate this so much."

**Stan Marsh: **"I know, Clyde," Stan said, feeling tears burn in his eyes as he motioned to the wall, "Go flip that switch dude, I can get out of this if I know I'm not going to fall on the floor below when I finally get out, okay? Just flip the switch to make it go down, okay, I'll hug you and you can sleep."

**Clyde Donovan: **He got up and walked limply over to the switch. His body still ached from being thrown and hit, but for Stan's sake, he had to stay strong. Flipping the switch, he watched the cage go down until it was close enough to the floor to stop. He wiped the tears from his eyes as he walked over to the cage and sat down beside it. He looked at Stan, wanting to hold him so tight, but he just had to sit there separated from the one person he wanted to most right now. He gripped the bars of the cage, his eyes growing tired from all that happened. Then laying his forehead against the bars, the little brunette quietly said, "Promise me you'll still be here when I wake up. Please..."

**Stan Marsh: **Once the cage was on the floor, Stan looked around the room for something he could use to pry open the latch. It was an old one - not the new fashioned secret switch types. Clearly it was imported from some castle, since it looked medieval. Maybe with enough force... He said, "Okay, back off, Clyde, I'm going to ram this bitch," and then he waited for the other to move over. Using the bars above him to give him leverage, he swung his lower body into the door - the metal stung his legs but it cracked and then squeaked open. Falling down, he let a few tears from pain fall down his face - his injured foot still hurt, and flinging himself around was painful. Walking out, he leaned down to pull Clyde up off the floor, and then helped him towards Stan's bed - it wasn't covered in blood.

"Okay, we're just going to lay down, Clyde - don't worry, it's going to be okay - and I'm always going to be here okay, no matter what." He assured the other as he climbed onto the bed and then laid down next to him, having a protective arm over him but facing him. Brushing his hair back, he said quietly, "I'm gonna be right here when you wake up."

**Clyde Donovan: **Clyde just stayed quiet, not being in much of a mood to talk anymore than he had already done. He curled up close to Stan, closing his eyes an attempting to fall asleep and dream the day away.

**Stan Marsh: **Feeling Clyde curl up next to him and hearing his breathing, he could tell the other was having difficulty sleeping. With his eyes closed, he leaned forwards so his chin was on the top of Clyde's head, and he said quietly with an arm draped over the other, "Sometimes music helps...uh... I'll...sing something, just picture your iPod or iPhone or something is hooked up, okay?" He pet the top of Clyde's head with his arm, and then began a slow tempo song;

"Little child, be not afraid- the rain pounds harsh against the glass...Like an unwanted stranger, there is no danger - I am here tonight... Little child, be not afraid; though thunder explodes, and lightening flash - illuminates, your tear stained face: I am here tonight. And someday you'll know, that nature is so - this same rain that draws you near me, falls on rivers and land; and forests and sand, makes the beautiful world you see, in the morning." Pausing, he massaged the back of Clyde's head comfortingly but gently.

"Little child, be not afraid, the storm clouds mask your beloved moon, and its candlelight beams, keep pleasant dreams; I am here tonight. Little child, be not afraid; the wind makes creatures of our trees, the branches to hands: I am here tonight..." Forgetting some of the lyrics, he paused, and tried to improvise.

"For you know, once even I...was a little child, and I was afraid, but a gentle someone always came- to dry all my tears, trade sweet sleep for fears, and to give a kiss goodnight - well now I am grown, and these days have shown that rain is a part of how life goes, but it's dark and it's late - so I'll hold you and wait until your frightened eyes do close...In the morning. Everything's fine in the morning...the rain will be gone in the morning..."

With a sigh, he said, "But I'll still be here in the morning," and accidentally planted a kiss on the top of the Clyde's head out of habit.

Then he lowered his voice a bit and said, "...and no homo, Donovan." With that concluding the end of his lullaby, he closed his eyes, but fully intended on staying awake. He wasn't going to let anything happen to Clyde.

**- Vacation House –**

**Token Black: ***phone call

**Christophe Giraud: ***answers* Quoi.

**Token Black: **We have a name.

**Christophe Giraud: **bon what is it.

**Token Black: **Peter Phile, he's in Italy.

**Christophe Giraud: **That's it?

**Token Black: **That's it. No location, just the name. He's a rich man, that has to narrow it down right?

**Christophe Giraud: **Ouai. Bye. *hangs up*

**- Peter's House -**

_Around five hours after Clyde and Stan fell asleep, Peter was sitting in the master bedroom removing his nylons. After discarding them aside, he walked over and slipped on a female dominatrix full body leather suit; and then tied back his blonde hair. Picking up leather gloves, he slipped them on and then grabbed the picana from his dresser. Stepping over to his closet, he unlocked the metal door and then walked through a long hallway, and unlocked the second metal door and shut it behind him. _

_Sliding open the hidden wall, he walked inside and saw Stan cradling Clyde. How cute. Noticing Stan's bandaged foot, he reached over on the bed and then grabbed it, forcing it suddenly to make it crack in the wrong position._

_"Wake up." He demanded, letting go of Stan's now broken ankle. _

**Stan Marsh:** Stan hadn't woken up when he heard the door open, but when he felt a pain coursing up his leg he lurched in the bed- accidentally gripping onto Clyde more. "Goddamnit!" He yelled, reaching down and grabbing his leg, tears forming in his eyes as he said, "Fuck you!" Any moving made it hurt worse, so he pressed his back against the headboard as he shook in pain.

**Christophe Giraud:** It hadn't been difficult to find the man Token had spoken of. The list of aliases was long, but so was Christophe's list of informants. It had taken a few hundred euros in the right pocket, and information had come spilling out. He'd even managed to get ahold of the blueprints of the house, and had laughed when he'd seen how poorly it was laid out.

Arriving in Italy, he'd made his way to the coast, and had spent a day scoping out the sprawling mansion. There were guards, of course, and only one viable entrance, but most idiot criminal druglords or what the fuck ever this asshole was didn't think to reinforce their foundations with metal. And without metal, Christophe could break in. It would take a few hours extra, of course, but he didn't spend all his free time digging holes for nothing. Once the day had turned into dusk, he rechecked his weapons and unslung his shovel. Within a few moments, dirt was flying into the air as he burrowed down into a hole, as fast as his codename would suggest. He'd made sure to start just far away enough to remain unseen by the guards on the grounds, so he had a long dig ahead. His muscles twinged in anticipation as he dug steeply downwards and towards the house.

**Clyde Donovan:** Cringing in pain, the feeling of Stan's grip began to linger around his arms. He was about to ask what happened, when the sound of Stan's loud cry hit him. Jolting up, his eyes first laid on the man. His outfit was frightening and Clyde hated the fact that Peter looked exactly like a girl. Then looking around for Stan, he found the boy leaning against the headboard, holding his foot in pain. There was no way the man could have done such a horrible thing to Stan, no this wasn't real. Of course it wasn't real, Stan's injured leg had become one that looked as it if was going to swell up sometime soon. There was no way that could have happened. But no...Clyde knew this was the reality he had to face; his friend was crying in pain literally broken and hurt. He quickly lunged forward and held Stan close, hoping this would help soften the thought of pain. He then stared menacingly at the man, wishing there was some way he could just get rid of his very existence. Instead, he spoke lowly and sternly saying, "I will fucking kill you. What the fuck did you do to Stan? Fuck you, you insane bastard!"

_Leaning on the bed, he smiled sadistically and casually walked over to a dresser near the door. He was surprised they hadn't ransacked the room already; though he couldn't remember the last time someone managed to remove the shackles. He thought maybe Mr. Slave had, but he wouldn't get angry with him, no._

_Pulling open a drawer, he brought out a silver case and popped the combination lock. He picked up two needles filled with liquid; one labeled with a red piece of tape, and the other black - one had a thicker needle. Holding them in one hand, and the picana in the other, he walked over to the edge of the bed and held them up._

_"One of these is a benzodiazepine, and will make you forget about what happened tonight...the other is potassium, which I can inject right in your heart to stop it. Which one do you two want? No is not an option anymore."_

**Stan Marsh:** Stan cradled his leg pitifully, wincing every time he moved the slightest bit. Quietly he said to Clyde, "Go with the first one, but...jesus christ I want to pick the second, th-this hurts too fucking much.."

_As Christophe broke through the concrete to the basement level, he would find a huge room with several doors leading to walk in kilns - and then an elevator leading upstairs. Once it opened, there were two guards outside the door with assault rifles._

**Clyde Donovan:** Clyde began rubbing his thumbs on Stan's back, making little circular motions in attempts to comfort. He wasn't the greatest at comforting but he went ahead anyways. Looking back and forth between the two needles, he bit his lip and agreed o go with the first. Though, he would much rather die than do God knows what tonight. So, hesitating slightly, the boy said, "U-um, yeah, the...benzo...ben..thing."

_Reaching over to grab Stan's hair, he forced him forwards on the bed- then he jammed the smaller needle in his thigh. Emptying it in him, he threw it on the floor and it bounced away under the bed. Then he yanked him by the hair again, this time throwing him forward on the floor in a heap. _

_"So you told me you are a virgin, but you have hickies all over your neckline...yes, like I believe you are a virgin, you little lying prick," He kicked him roughly in the middle, then threw the potassium in the corner of the room near the door. Motioning Clyde to come towards him with a beckoning finger, he said, "Help him off the floor and back on the bed." He held the picana ready, just in case Clyde tried to be clever. He didn't seem the type, though._

**Stan Marsh: **Stan fell on the floor, curling up in a ball when the other kicked him. The room was becoming fuzzy, and he really couldn't tell if his leg hurt anymore - was that all that was in the needle or did he have it combined with something else? With tears streaming down his face, he looked at Clyde and then shut his eyes.

_After several hits to the concrete, Christophe could see the dim flickering lights in the basement._

**Christophe Giraud:** The light in the cellar wasn't very good, so Christophe quickly unzipped his pack and pulled out his night vision goggles as he slammed his shovel a final time into the foundation and broke through into the room. He shimmied out of the hole, glancing around quickly before pulling out his pack. Staying crouched in the shadows of a corner, he quietly put away his shovel and pulled out his gun and silencer, clicking the pieces together. He checked that his knives were in place before creeping up the stairs of the basement, carefully testing each board to make sure it wouldn't creak.

**Clyde Donovan:** "I..." He slowly released his tight grip on the boy, then reached down towards the bottom of Stan's gown. With a heavy look on his face, Clyde took a deep breath and held it as he began pulling the piece of cothing off of Stan. Once it was almost all of, he said a hushed, "I'm sorry," and pulled it all the way off of Stan's head and arms. Then laying Stan's head lightly on the mattress, he started working off his own gown until he was completely exposed as well.

**Christophe Giraud:** Christophe snorted softly to himself as he heard the guards talking in full voice just outside the door. Fucking idiots. Entirely alerted to their presence, he cocked his silenced gun and pulled out his knife, listening with his ear pressed against the door until he was certain where both guards were located. Silently, he twisted the door handle, and was relieved to find that it was unlocked. His face falling blank, he flung the door open and simultaneously rammed his knife into the closer guard's neck, and shot the other guard through the head so that he slumped down the wall, leaving a trail of blood across the paint. He caught the other guard and set him down on the ground before stepping over the bodies, keeping his eyes open for any cameras around the ceiling or on the walls.

**Clyde Donovan:** Staring at the picana for a moments time, he shot Stan a horrific look. No, this was going to far. He was definitely not going to do that to Stan. Especially after all the boy had done for him, there was no way someone could make him do that. He just kept his eyes away from the man and refused to move his hand towards the picana. "Why do you want me to do that?" he asked, hoping that'd give them a little bit of time, though he wasn't sure exactly what he was delaying time for.

**Christophe Giraud:** Christophe spotted a camera up in a corner, and shot it out as he passed. He trod silently down the hallway until he came to the base of a staircase, and peered up it. The whole thing was too goddamn exposed, and he knew that Stan and Clyde were up on the top floor: he had spotted their silhouettes through the window. Making a hasty decision, he darted past the staircase to a window, and tried to open the thing. It was bolted shut, however, and a quick press of his fingers around the frame told him that it was an electric lock. Swearing, he paused and tried to recall how the blueprint had looked, tried to remember if there was an alternative way up to the top floor. He remembered something he'd initially dismissed as bullshit, but now that he couldn't scale the outside of the building, it seemed a much better option. He crept through the hall, staying pressed up against the shadowy walls of the rooms, until he got to the kitchen.

_Hearing Clyde begin to delay, he reached over and grabbed Stan's hand - flattening it easily since the other was too drugged to notice. Taking the pistol, he shot right through the palm of Stan's left hand. Without flinching at all, he watched the blood gush from the other's hand and he let it drop on the bed. "Now, next time it'll be his head. Do it now."_

**Stan Marsh: **Stan started sobbing as he felt his hand punctured by the bullet. But instead of logically piecing together that he should comply in order to live, he said, "Shoot me...shoot me."

_Flipping open his phone again, Peter stared at the mess on the bed before him as he speed dialed the control room. "How is it going." _

_"Camera out, no sight of intruder. Should I start self-destruct sequence?"_

_"Yes, set it for..." He looked at Clyde's eyes, and then said, "Ten minutes." _

_Should I let the guards know so they can notify their families?"_

_"No." Peter said as he flipped the phone shut, and then stared at Clyde. "You have ten minutes to choose how you're going to die. Shot several times with a gun, or explode into pieces instantly. Come on now, he can't feel anything anyways..."_

**Christophe Giraud:** There was a cook or some shit in the kitchen, and he paused when he saw Christophe enter the room, staring in shock. Christophe stared right back for a moment, surprised as well, but he darted into action and bashed the guy over the head, sending him down to the ground. He paused only to make sure that he felt a pulse before standing back up and searching the walls. He spotted what he was after quickly, an odd bit of paneling that didn't match the rest of the wall. He strode over to it, and dug his knife into the crack between the panel and the rest of the wall. With a little effort, the entire thing came loose, revealing an unused dumbwaitor shaft that went up to the top of the building. Grinning, Christophe shoved himself inside the opening, for once grateful for his small size, and started to climb the empty shaft with his arms braced against the walls.

_The familiar sound of the dumbwaitor shaft was creaking in the wall - Peter knew it went right to his room, and he was sure he had told them not to interrupt. Dialing the number again, he walked over to a wall and grabbed a mace off of it, and said, "What the hell, who is sending something up." _

_"The chef is unconscious sir, please get out of your room." _

_"Shit," He said as he looked towards the boys, and then walked out the sliding door and slid open a wall right before the metal door to the side. It was harder to move - he had to rip the wall paper away to pry it open. Then he disappeared down a corridor, which led to the outside patio- there he would climb in a car, and drive off before Christophe reached the fourth floor._

**Stan Marsh: **"Clyde..." Stan whimpered as he reached up and touched the other's face, his eyes misty as he tried focusing. "Should..leave."

**Christophe Giraud:** Christophe got to the top of the column, and heaved himself into the room. He rolled as he hit the ground and came up with his weapons raised. He glanced around, and saw the room was empty, but that there was a thin beam of light coming from the closet. He quickly followed it to the source, and came upon the room where Stan and Clyde were hidden.

**Clyde Donovan:** "Ahh fuck, oh fuck. Let's see uhm..." His eyes darted across the room, looking for the safest place to get out. Oh, duh, of course. The door. He hopped off the bed and flawlessly picked up Stan from the bed, holding him in bridal position. Luckily all that football training had paid off. Now running for the door, he used his foot to pull it open as wide as he could and prepared himself to sprint through the house; thought to his surprise, he and Stan were both met with an unfamiliar stranger. He backed away a little bit, wishing and hoping it wasn't Peter or someone just as bad. But looking at him more closely, he realised it was just Christophe. No, not 'just Christophe', it was 'their glorious savior and hero, Christophe'. He pulled Stan closer to his chest and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. "Oh...Oh God...Holy shit, Chris, you have no fucking idea how happy I am to see your right now. Uh, that guy and Stan's leg and-fuck! The building is going to explode and oh God...We need to get the fuck out, oh my God!"

_Staring the car in the car port, Peter backed out and took off in the vehicle. He would switch it later at another location; no big deal. This was a small set back._

**Christophe Giraud:** Christophe nodded at Clyde, relieved to see him and Stan alive, and darted over to the window. He cursed loudly when he saw the taillights of a car driving away down the long driveway. He fired a few useless bullets out the window towards the thing, but they had no time to spare if the building was collapsing. He put away his gun and knives and darted back over to Clyde, taking Stan from him and heaving him up into a fireman's carry. The other boy was taller than him, but not heavy enough to detract from Christophe's speed. "We 'ave to go, down ze stairs and through my tunnel," he told Clyde. They'd have to take the stairs, but now that Stan and Clyde had been found, Christophe had no qualms about just shooting all the bitches in the damn place and escaping. He ran out of the room, sprinting towards the staircase.

**Clyde Donovan:** "Stairs okay, uh got..it..wait..your tunnel? You have a tunnel? What? Ah whatever!" Clyde followed suit, quickly catching up to Christophe and matching his sprint down the staircase. He took a quick glance at Stan as he ran side by side with Christophe, but soon looked away and frowned, He felt terrible about what had happened. But there was no time to think more on that now. "So where's that tunnel of yours? Not far that far...right?"

**- Outside Vacation House -**

**Token Black:** It had been three days spent outside the house, barely sleeping, when Token got the message from Christophe. He had actually shut himself in the study because he was so distraught- wearing yesterday's clothes, bags under his eyes, his head buried in his hands as he sat at the desk. The minute the phone buzzed, he lifted it, expecting it to be junk mail. Then he saw who it was, and he threw back the chair and ran out of the house to the front yard. Christophe was long gone, but he noticed two figures with blankets on them on the yard. He ran down the length of it and motioned to the bodyguards who were already getting out of their cars. "Call the doctors," He screamed at them, and then noticed Stan was out cold.

"Clyde, Clyde, oh my god." He said as he pulled the other up and threw him into a hug, despite the other being covered only by a blanket. "Bro, I missed you so much, oh my god, I missed you so much..." He started crying as he hugged the other out of joy, rubbing his back as he clung to him. "God, I was terrified I wouldn't see you again..."

**Clyde Donovan:** It wasn't the first time he had seen Token cry, but it was definitely a rare occurrence. His eyes were now beginning to stream with tears as well, but his eyes stung a little bit from being swollen from the amount of times he had cried the past few days. He rested his tired self against Token as the boy hugged him; loving the feel of one of his close friends around him. Wrapping his arms tightly around the other, he cried in a muffled voice, "Token I missed you so much. Oh my God. I thought Stan and I were goners for sure. I'm never going out at night again. That was scary, so fucking scary Token...I'm so sorry!"


	43. 06 29 2012

06.29.2012

* * *

**Craig fumbles with the lock to their apartment - having a sleeping Stan draped in his arms, it's a little hard to grasp anything. Once he gets the door open, he pushes his way inside and kicks the door shut after passing through the door way. He tries to keep quiet, even though there's not really a possibility Stan will be waking up. He'd been medicated, and they're just getting home from the hospital so it would at least be until the drugs wore off that Stan stayed sleeping.**

**He makes his way back to their bedroom and gingerly lays Stan down on the bed. He pulls the blankets up over him and watches for a second as Stan sleeps soundly.**

**Fucking France had been horrible. Craig still doesn't know the whole story. He'd gotten bits and pieces from Clyde – **_**god fucking damn, thank God Clyde is okay too**_** – but they were jumbled and didn't make a lot of sense. But from Stan's skinned, broken ankle, the bullet wound in his hand, and the now feint tracks in his arms, it hadn't been fucking pretty. Craig sighs heavily again, regretting that he hadn't been able to help Stan more. And there's no way Stan will recover fully from whatever happened. Even without the probable mental trauma, he wouldn't have full functionality of his hand back for at least another year. Ugh, this fucking blows.**

**He leans down and pushes Stan's bangs back, planting a kiss on his forehead before quietly leaving the room. He leaves the door open, so Stan knows where he is when he wakes up, and makes his way out to the kitchen. He'll have to make some food for when Stan wakes up. He's not half the cook Stan is, but he knows Stan will be hungry when he wakes, so Craig should at least have something ready. He finds a few boxes of Kraft mac and cheese and sets them on the counter. They'll take barely ten minutes to make, so he's got plenty of time before Stan wakes up.**

**In the meantime, he tries to think of ways to help Stan out. He hadn't been about to do jack shit while they were in France – well, while Stan was in **_**Italy**_** – and now he wants to be as much help as possible. After rolling around a few ideas, he finally lands on one that he doesn't really like. No, he doesn't like it at all. But it's worth a shot, maybe. Craig will just have to be smart about it, that's all.**

**Damien. Damien could heal Stan back to perfect health. But why would he agree to help them after the annoyances Damien suffered on their behalf? Damien no doubt doesn't exactly favor them in his mind. He thinks hard on ways to get Damien to cooperate without getting them into deep shit again. Then he remembers the macaroni.**

**He stands and makes his way back into the kitchen. He prepares one of the boxes and dumps the finished product into one of their new Tupperware containers. He makes his way through their front door and stands in front of Damien's for a moment, hesitating to knock. **_**Easy – it'll be easy**_**, he tries to reassure himself.**

**He takes a breath and knocks. He waits an agonizing thirty seconds before Damien answers. Before the other can greet him, though, he holds out the box of food as a peace offering. "I have a favor to ask. Stan is hurt pretty badly, and I want you to heal him. Um… please. I'll give you this box of mac and cheese if you come over heal his wounds when I ask you too. He's asleep right now, so it won't be for another hour or so, but will you do it? And you have to leave after; no loitering in our goddamned apartment."**

_Damien stares for a moment; first at Craig, then at the box presented, then back up to Craig's eyes. His brow raises in interest, wondering when Stan and Craig had gotten an apartment, and where it is. And also how Stan got hurt. And a million other things are running through his mind, curious by nature. Instead of asking any of his questions, because he figures that he'll find out soon enough anyway, he just extends a hand, taking the box. "Deal," he says, taking the macaroni. He's hungry anyway, and Stan can't be _that _hurt, so how much energy would he spend trying to heal the little shit? "Just come and get me when you want me," he offers, making to shut his door. Craig's business is done so he has no more reason to talk to the kid._

**Craig manages to get in a "Yeah, okay," before the door is promptly shut in his face. What a dick. But whatever, Craig got what he wanted, so he doesn't care. And he's glad all it cost him was a fucking box of Kraft.**

**He goes back in his own apartment and tries to relax on the couch for a few minutes before deciding that Stan would probably be waking up soon. He goes and makes two more boxes of mac and cheese, not knowing exactly how hungry Stan will be, and divides the finished food into two bowls. They're filled high, but he doesn't think it will be a problem. He shoves two forks in the respective bowls and makes his way back into the room.**

**He sets Stan's food on the night stand and then goes to sit on the bed next to him. He slowly starts eating his own food – which is decidedly way less tasty than Stan's food is – and waits for Stan to wake up. He hopes it won't be too long because he doesn't want the food to get cold and for Stan to eat gross cold macaroni. He knows Stan would probably feel bad wasting food and eat it even if it's gross, so he hopes it stays warm.**

"Ughhhhnnn, fucking..fuck," Stan mumbled as he woke up from a nightmare, his eyes slowly opening. Was he actually awake? He wasn't sure what was responsible for the vicious atrocities he just dreamed of, but he didn't really want to wake up to what he did wake up to. Mainly, lifting his hand and remembering how they had to reconstruct it, how it still didn't feel normal, the skin grafts...the broken foot, and basically immobilization in general. He laid there for a moment, staring off the edge of the bed and thinking about what happened, and he grew extremely quiet. He barely remembered when he was drugged, but a familiar feeling of being hopeless was there; and his first thought was, oh no. Did they leave Clyde?

He made a great effort to roll over, even if he felt pain as he did so. Seeing Craig next to him, he jumped slightly because he didn't expect someone to be staring at him in bed - even Craig. Then he realized the other was eating macaroni and cheese - and he remembered vaguely seeing a bowl sitting on the desk at the same time. They must be back in the US. He couldn't remember the plane ride - the drugs made him so damn forgetful and woozy.

"...Craig," He said, his throat a bit raspy as he reached out to feel Craig's knee, his good hand staying there for a moment as the bandaged hand was hugged to his chest protectively.

"Is that box macaroni and cheese...because that shit is so nasty."

It was his natural state of being to be critical, but he paused for a moment as he added, "...I love you for making it, can I have some?"

**Craig sees Stan start to stir and he instinctively breathes a sigh of relief. As he waited, he'd had the gross irrational fear that Stan wouldn't wake up, and it had been slowly eating at him. But seeing Stan moving makes him feel instantly better.**

**When Stan finally turns to look at him, Craig gives a soft kind of smile. "Of course, I made you a whole box," he says. He carefully sets his own bowl where it won't be knocked over and moves off the bed to collect Stan's. Once back in his spot, Stan's food in hand, he offers, "Do you want me to help you sit up or can you do it?"**

"I can do it," Stan said immediately, forgetting he wasn't really in a condition to do anything himself. But he tried pulling himself in an upwards position anyways - at first, he found it difficult because he wanted to use his lame hand, but then he found he could do it with just one. Reaching over and taking the bowl with his good hand, he set it in his lap and then picked up the spoon.

Staring at it, he looked perplexed as he studied the food. Then he looked nauseous. With a fleeting moment, he put the spoon back and then picked up the bowl and held it back to Craig; the only explanation he gave was, "Medicine...it's making me sick. Uh, bucket? Uh...wrap that up...for later..."

He wasn't sure if he was going to throw up, but he felt dizzy again from sitting up so fast, and now he was feeling exhausted and confused. Why was his head so damn foggy? With a frown, he set the bowl on the bed and then moved his hands to his lap in a semi-defeated way.

**Craig watches Stan try to sit up, and it makes him hurt a little to see him struggle. He knows Stan won't be very happy to see Damien later, but at least Stan won't be in pain anymore. When Stan holds the bowl back out to him, he's confused for all of three seconds until Stan says **_**bucket**_**. Oh.**

"**Yeah, sure," Craig says, setting both their bowls on the mattress behind him before getting off the bed again. He tries hard to think if they even **_**have **_**a goddamn bucket. Did they even buy one? He can't remember… But there's a little trash can in the bathroom and it has a bag in it, so if Stan pukes they can just bag it up and toss it out. He goes to get it and there's not even anything in it because they haven't exactly been home much. But that's good; looking down at trash probably wouldn't have been exactly positive for Stan.**

**He goes back to the room and gives Stan the little trash bin with a quiet "Here you go," before sitting beside him again. He puts a hand on his back and rubs comforting circles, trying to be any help that he can.**

Stan takes the basket, and hovers over it for a few minutes until he decided that maybe it was just the nausea from smelling food. The medicine was making him sick feeling, and now the urge to eat had dissipated. With a sad frown, he put the basket on the blanket next to him and then sat there with his hands in his lap, staring at his feet. He hadn't really gotten a chance to tell Craig what went on there, and he knew he'd need therapy for it - maybe group therapy with Clyde. He felt confused as to why Clyde wasn't here- he thought they would keep him and protect him.

"Did they kill that guy?" He asked quietly, having a feeling the answer was no. To know that creep was still out there...it made his stomach hurt worse, and he could almost feel the needle going in his arm again at the thought.

**Craig hesitates before responding. He knows Stan wants the answer to be yes, but Craig doesn't even know who it was, let alone if the fucker lived. No one had told him anything, and frankly he didn't care as long as Stan was okay. And now that Stan is sitting next to him, alive and breathing, he cares a little more and he wishes he would have asked Token for more details.**

"**I don't know," he finally admits, giving Stan a sorry expression. He'd do anything in his fucking goddamned power that he could to make that guy pay for hurting Stan and Clyde like this, but there's literally nothing Craig can do, and it's **_**killing him**_**. He wants that fucking asshole prick dead, and he doesn't even regret thinking it.**

"Oh."

Stan's response was simple, and he didn't want to think anymore on it even though his mind was brimming with thoughts. Why did the guy get away? Wasn't the place going to explode? Was Clyde okay? What if he seeks revenge, and comes back and hurts Clyde? The dark haired boy laying rather pitifully on the bed, half propped up by pillows, looked as if he were lost somewhere he didn't want to be for a good few minutes. His hand throbbing brought him back, and he looked down at it as he realized the bandage was a little red. "Uh...probably should...change this."

He didn't even want to see his leg - he could feel it unmoving when he pressed against the bed, since it was covered by a thick cast. It was miserable. He just wanted to be back a week ago, before they got on the plane - he wanted to say no, and walk away. Well, with Craig and Clyde.

"...So." He said after a minute, hoping Craig would take it as a conversation starter for a new topic - Stan just didn't know what to talk about.

**Craig doesn't bother going to get the bandages because Stan changed the topic – kinda – and he knows that Damien was just going to heal Stan anyway. He hopes Damien can get the cast off Stan's leg without hurting him.**

**Thinking about Damien… and with Stan's open ended 'so,' Craig isn't really presented with much else to talk about than that topic. Which he doesn't want to do, at all, but Stan need to know. "…So yeah, um, I'm not going to lie or try to beat around the bush about it. I asked Damien for help and he's going to heal you up. I paid him off with a box of Kraft and he's happy; he's not going to bother us, I made sure the favor was clearly stated, and all that shit. He's just going to come over here, fix you, and leave. That's it. Even if he talks to you, you don't have to answer because he can't do anything about it, so… yeah."**

**It wasn't the most graceful way to put it, but he said it. And now he doesn't want to look at Stan because he knows he won't like what he sees, but he does anyway. He looks up to his eyes and waits for the retort.**

At first, Stan thought maybe he was sleeping again and he was back in a nightmare. Did Craig just say he asked Damien for a favor? His eyes narrowed as he moved his working hand to pinch himself on the arm, and then he realized - no, he was awake.

"...what the fuck, Craig. No. I am not going to let that freak touch me anywhere ever again, okay. I don't even know if I want you touching me after what happened in France- or Italy, or wherever the fuck we were - okay, I am not going to do that, you should have asked me first. I can't believe you wouldn't fucking ask me before you did something stupid like that." He was so angry he was shaking slightly, and he moved to lay down in the bed and pulled the covers over his head. Well, if he didn't want anyone touching him, he'd just stay under the covers and no one could.

**Craig keeps himself from visibly flinching when Stan says that he doesn't even want Craig touching him, but it still cuts. "Um, well, I want you to be able to move properly and not be in fucking pain or on medication or anything and it was all I could do to help. All I gave him was a fucking bowl of mac and cheese so I guess it doesn't matter if you don't want him to help, but… I really want you to feel better, so I asked him. I'm sorry I didn't ask you first but you were asleep." He pauses, not sure where to go from there or what to say. Stan is pretty much barricading himself off and he doesn't want Craig to touch him anyway so… "Um… do you not want me in here? Because I can give you space."**

"No, I want you here," Stan groaned underneath the covers, realizing that he had said to Craig he didn't want him touching him. Ugh. It was difficult to explain - he just didn't want to be grabbed in any way. It wouldn't be that way forever...hopefully. But he couldn't say that to Craig. Or could he?

"I just...I don't want to...ugh...the guy...I was...I just want...safety, okay? You."

He curled up, cradling his hand underneath the blanket to his chest, his other hand now on it. He wanted to ask Craig to get him some painkillers, but he had a feeling if he told him to leave, Craig would go get Damien or something like that. With a shakey sigh, he grew quiet.

**Craig doesn't say anything, just watches Stan curl up. He doesn't know what to do, and it's making him feel even worse that Stan won't accept Damien's help. It's understandable – who **_**would **_**want Damien's help? – but it still sucks. Damien has the ability to make all of Stan's physical pain go away, and that would be fucking fantastic. But Craig isn't going to do anything that Stan doesn't want, so…**

**He forgets about the macaroni, suddenly not very hungry, and slowly lays on his side as well. He closes his eyes, his face twisted in worry, and tries not to think about what's going on. At least Stan is here. At least…**

Still curled up and hidden under the blanket, he felt Craig lay down next to him. He was trying to force himself to think of how this made Craig feel, even though his own nerves were telling him differently - to just stay hidden, not say anything, just stay. Exist. But he had a feeling the other would only do something like get Damien's help if he was seriously upset, and he didn't want Craig to be upset, and it was making his head hurt - a mixture of pain and being angry at himself.

"Craig," He said after a moment, when he couldn't handle the pain without painkillers or something to numb it.

"Whatever you want I'll do okay, but I need a painkiller, I hurt a fuck ton."

**Craig had kind of expected Stan to fall back asleep, so when he speaks, Craig opens his eyes with a bit of surprise. "Uh, I don't know what you… yeah, I'll get your pills and some water," he says. He's not sure what Stan meant by he'll do what Craig wants. Maybe he meant letting Damien heal him? That's the only thing Craig asked for, but it's not like he's going to force it on Stan. He gets out of bed again to go find wherever he'd put the bag from the doctor. He finds it, collects the little orange container, and gets a glass of water. He returns to the room and says, "Here, Stan," and waits for Stan to try sitting up again so he can take it.**

Stan had begun to fall asleep in Craig's absence, and when he walked back in and said, 'here', Stan snapped out of his sleepy state. Slowly tugging the blanket down off of his face, he looked at Craig and the orange container he was offering him. Two hands. He needed two hands to do anything Craig was holding right now - one hand to take the glass, and even with the bottle, he needed two hands to open it. And it was really bothering him, even if he didn't want to admit it.

"...I thought you were going to go get jackass and have him come in here or something." Stan said quietly, looking away from Craig towards the ceiling as he laid on his back on the bed.

**Craig doesn't say anything at first. He's a bit taken aback by the fact that Stan **_**still**_** doesn't trust him. Stan says he trusts him all the time, but everything he does says otherwise. Slowly, he asks, "…why would I do that when you said you didn't want me to?" After a second though, he just shakes his head, dismissing it and not wanting to think about it anymore. "Here, if you take the glass, I can give you the pills. How many do you need, two?" he asks, holding the cup of water out to Stan.**

"Well, no, I gave you permission," Stan stated strongly, still staring at the ceiling but now narrowed his eyes. Why was Craig saying he didn't want him to do it? And then when the other held out the glass, he shook his head and put up his hand so the other couldn't hand it to him. "No, Craig, go get jackass. I want you to get jackass. Because - really, seriously, I'm being completely honest right now: I'm not going to do anything if I have to go through life with a lame hand and fucked up leg. I'm not smart, I can barely pass my classes - I'm like relying on my ability to do sports and if I'm out of work for too long I'll get fired, so just go get him, okay. Before I change my mind."

**Craig doesn't question it anymore, not wanting to piss Stan off on top of him being in pain. "Alright, fine," he says simply, setting the things in his hands on the desk and leaving the room. "I'll be right back, then," he says, leaving the room. He makes his way back over to Damien's apartment and knocks again. He's not quite as nervous about it this time, but he'd not exactly confident either.**

_Damien hears Craig knock again and shuts his laptop. He goes to his door and opens it, revealing Craig's face for the second time that day. He doesn't say anything because there's nothing worth being said. He just shuts his door behind him and waits for Craig to show him to his apartment. He vaguely wonders if a measly bowl of mac and cheese was worth whatever he's about to do, but then again, he was hungry so what the fuck ever._

**Craig cringes a bit internally as he takes the few steps to the next door over. Now Damien knows they're fucking neighbors, goddamnit. He takes Damien inside and back to Stan. "Tell him what he needs to fix," Craig mutters uncomfortably. He **_**really**_** doesn't like that Damien is in their house. He shifts from foot to foot, watching him carefully.**

_Damien raises an eyebrow when Craig takes him to the door directly next to his own. They're his _new neighbors_? Holy fucking shit, that is the most ironic thing ever. He follows Craig inside, trying to keep his mischievous smirk down because he can't fuck with them anymore. He doesn't care how tempting it is; those two are too much trouble to maintain. Once back in what's presumably their room, he looks down at Stan with a grin. "Yes, Stan, tell me where it hurts," he says, raising a hand and flexing his fingers in a worm like fashion._

While Craig was gone, Stan pushed himself back up into a sitting position and removed the covers from his lower half. He noted how he was wearing shorts - he couldn't remember putting them on, but he was glad he wasn't wearing something he'd have to take off. He had on a heavy cast, which was on his left foot. With his good hand, he reached down to push it off but it was hard as rock. He supposed maybe he could pull his leg out of it, but it would hurt like hell. Vaguely remembering how there was an instrument to saw a cast off, he started panicking when he realized his foot might be stuck in there; Damien might want to remove it.

"Shit," he muttered as he looked around for something sharp. There really wasn't anything in the room he could use. That was when Craig walked back into the room with Damien, who Stan stared at for a moment before he looked over to Craig. He heard Damien's comment, but he kept looking at Craig instead, wondering if he could tell he was panicked.

"...uh, Craig, can you come over and...uh, a moment alone or something."

**Craig hesitantly pulls his eyes from Damien, not wanting to leave him unsupervised in their home. "Um, yeah okay," he says leaning over on the bed and placing his face next to Stan's, their mouths near each other's ears. "What?" he whispers quietly.**

_Damien raises an eyebrow but doesn't say anything. He just continues to stand there. He crosses his arms as he waits, wanting to get this healing over with so he can go home. It just looks like a broken leg/foot/something and a hand wound. This is no big deal at all. He's seen worse. He's _done_ worse._

Glancing towards Damien as Craig leaned in, Stan leaned in also and whispered in a hushed tone, "...tell him to leave," He paused, frowning as he added quietly, "The cast needs a saw to take it off...he'll fuck it up."

With an uneasy glance towards his cast, he looked back at Craig fretfully as he said unsurely, "Okay?..."

_Before Craig can say anything, Damien chirps up, noticing Stan's uneasy glance toward his cast. "If this is about the stupid cast," he says, taking a step forward. He reaches a hand forward and touches the cast lightly with his pointer finger. After a second, a steady crack splits along the cast, in one, long, even line, and it falls into two pieces on either side of Stan's leg. "Then it's not a problem."_

**Craig glares at Damien for acting before being told to. He supposes Damien didn't do anything bad, but still. This asshole needs to get out of their house as soon as possible.**

Stan's heart sank when he realized Damien was reaching out for the cast. No no no no- he felt his body tense, and fully expected his leg to be severed off. With his eyes narrowing, he looked away to the other side of the bed, deciding to just not say anything at all. It was pretty obvious that his leg was broken and his hand was in a cast as well. He hadn't been nearly as worried with that one though- it was loose even now.

When he felt the cast's support disappear, the sharp pain of bones rubbing against one another and shifting out of place soared up his leg. Recoiling, he gripped the bed with his good hand as he closed his eyes, trying not to scream. But it was too much as he tried to move the leg out of instinct, just a centimeter, reigniting the pain- and he said loudly, "You're a fucking asshole, fuck you, god fucking damnit just **heal** the fucking **leg**!"

_Damien looks on the maimed foot; skinless in parts and quite noticeably broken. He grasps Stan around the ankle and begins his healing process. It takes a drawn out moment, but he gets the bones to form back together. He presses his fingers into the broken pieces, focusing on fusing them back together. When he's finished, he replaces Stan's skin. He watches as the reddened, discolored flesh grows and inches closed. When the area is whole and healthy looking he gives Stan a look. "Next," he says boredly. He just wants to go home; this isn't as exciting as he thought it might be._

**Craig starts at Stan's shout, backing his head away from Stan's face. He watches for a moment, wondering how badly it probably hurts to have Damien pressing his broken fucking bones together like that. But at least he'll be healed… but he can't really say that, because he has no idea how fucking badly it actually hurts. He reaches for Stan's hand, thinking that maybe Stan will want something to squeeze the shit out of. It's the least Craig can do right now. He watches, fascinated by the disgusting sight of Stan's skin reforming so rapidly. He turns his attention back to Stan when Damien says 'next.'**

His eyes were watering as he sat there gripping the bedsheet, and when Craig offered his hand he didn't refuse it. In fact, he gripped it so tight that he thought he might break his hand with his own.

Even though he felt better, he was still wearing a frown as he looked at it as if it were defective. Carefully moving it an inch, he waited for the pain that didn't come. He moved his legs back up towards himself, sitting crosslegged as he went to remove his hand cast. "Goddamnit," He cursed under his breath- he could already tell it was bleeding because the cast was red. With another pull, he couldn't force his hand out, but the pain radiated as he felt the cast grow wet. Most of the nerves were missing or singed; he couldn't tell what he was feeling because most of his fingers were numb as it was. But from what he did feel, it was excruciating, so he quit moving it.

**Craig winces as Stan nearly breaks his hand, but doesn't say anything. It can't be anywhere near as bad as whatever Stan is feeling, because he can see the tears forming in Stan eyes, refusing to fall. He watches as Stan tries to remove the cast from around his hand. He can see the redness pooling inside the cast and he briefly wonders if he should get towels or something. He hesitates before standing, not wanting to leave Damien alone with Stan, but he figures that Damien knows his boundaries at this point. But just in case, he says, "Don't touch him until I come back; I'm going to get towels."**

_Damien raises his hands in defense, like he's never done anything wrong. As soon as Craig is gone, though, he turns his full attention on Stan. "So," he starts, grinning ear to fucking ear. "I guess I really haven't been paying enough attention to not notice you two living here. When did you move in?" he asks. "No, never mind; how the fuck did you get this hurt?" he asks instead. "No, don't answer that either because I don't care. Will I be getting fed regularly for remedial chores like this?" he asks, fully interested in the prospect of food. He'll heal every goddamned paper cut Stan ever has if he keeps getting fed dinner._

Stan was going to protest when Craig got up to leave, but he had just opened his mouth when Craig went out the door. The medication made him slower, and he hadn't even formed the thought until Craig's back was out of sight.

He listened to Damien change his question every time; they seemed to be increasingly worse as he went along. His heart was beating fast again, and he felt like cowering but his hand was throbbing and he was about to pass out from pain. Trying to figure out what the other was asking, he vaguely thought of how he made Damien pizza, and then he wondered why he thought of that specific memory. Weird. He narrowed his eyes and rubbed his face with his free hand, still holding his other above the bed so he didn't ruin the mattress.

"Uh...week ago...black market...uh... ... ...ask Craig." He couldn't figure out if Damien had just propositioned another deal or not, so he didn't want to agree to something that might end up being permanent. He didn't want Damien in their apartment all the time - that would be horrifying.

"_You've been here a whole week and I didn't notice? What the fuck do you have to do with the black market?" Damien asks, raising a surprised eyebrow. He turns his eyes down to Stan's hand, wondering what's beneath the cast this time that's bleeding this badly. Before he can ask, any more questions, or get any answers, Craig comes back. Damien doesn't bother hiding his scowl at having his interrogation interrupted, but doesn't say anything._

**Craig walks back into the room with three towels in hand. "I don't care if you ruin them, even if they're new; they're way goddamn cheaper than a new mattress would be," he says, giving Damien a look when he notices the frown he's sporting. "Did I miss something?" he asks, not liking the feeling he's getting. He really doesn't fucking like Damien at all. He goes back to Stan's side and lays the towels under his bleeding hand. He takes Stan's good one again on instinct, not knowing if Stan wants him to or not but doing it anyway. On second thought, Stan said he didn't want Craig touching him… maybe he shouldn't?**

When Damien asks him what he has to do with the black market, he starts to respond but doesn't really know what he'll say. "France..." was all he managed to say before Craig came back into the room, and his eyes barely focused on the other. "Craig, I'm dizzy," He said with a little bit of worry in his voice, but it was more out of wanting to warn the other before he passed out, which he was about to do. They had done some surgical work and inserted metal to connect his bones, and the skin grafting had torn and now was soaking the bandage. The thought that Damien would be removing metal screws from his bones also made him woozy, but he wasn't going to say anything - Craig was upset, he didn't want him upset.

**Craig sits down on the mattress next to Stan so that he has someone to lean on if he needs to. "It'll be over soon," he assures, giving Damien a get-the-fuck-on-with-it look.**

"_You know, Stanly, I can make it…" he pauses for half a second to flick his eyes at Craig, resisting his impish grin. "…not hurt as much, if you're in this much pain. Like before," he says, taking Stan's busted hand in his own. He waits for someone's response before he breaks this cast, not wanting Stan to complain again._

**Craig frowns. What a dick; he could make it less painful and he just did that to Stan's foot? "Just do it, asshole, he said he was going to pass out, so fucking hurry."**

Staring blankly at Damien, he blinked once before he looked towards the ceiling, wondering why he was feeling so lightheaded. The room was kind of bright, in a weird way, and he couldn't really tell what Damien was trying to suggest. "Okay," was all he could respond with, despite thinking, _Oh god...but that's my alone time hand...what if..._but what if what? He couldn't remember why this was a bad thing, and as he looked down at the cast - it really wasn't going to last much longer as it grew soggy with blood.

_Damien cracks the cast open as he had the other one, and watches as blood pours from in and soaks the first few layers of towel. Is that a bullet wound? "Is that a fucking bullet wound?" he asks, surprised that something like that actually happened to Stan of all people. He quickly stops caring though and brings the hand to his face to analyze. There fucking metal pieces in there, goddamnit; why didn't they bring Stan to him _before _going to the hospital? He just sighs and brings the hand closer to his face, his tongue slipping out to invade the wound. It's not even fun this time because Stan is too out of it to get squeamish and he actually has to pry fucking screws out of his bones instead of healing a simple flesh wound. He focuses on the screws removing themselves from Stan's body, and soon enough he's got a mouth full of fucking metal pieces. He spits them out on the towels, scowling at them for being in his mouth, before returning to Stan's now metal-less hand._

**Craig watches, trying his hardest not to get pissed off as Damien's gross fucking tongue starts working on Stan. He just tries to remember that this way is less painful for Stan. He has no idea that it actually feels a little better than '**_**not good**_**.' When Damien spits metal shards and screws onto the towel, he just stares at them, wondering what they fuck they're supposed to do with those. He looks to Stan's face to see if he's feeling any better yet, not that he probably is. After all, now Stan just has a gaping hole in his hand again.**

Stan was feeling sicker by the minute, and his eyes were half-lidded when he watched Damien spit out metal. Oh. **God. **It was difficult not to throw up, and the room was shaking - he was sure he was going to puke. His hand contorted from holding Craig's, and he moved it upwards to set on Damien's head, shaking slightly as he innately ran his fingers through the other's hair, too confused to figure out why he had put his hand on him in the first place. He remembered after a minute because his stomach lurched, and he attempted to push Damien's head away.

"Sick..." He murmured before he turned to Craig, wondering if he would get the hint. The hand felt better, but his problem with throwing up only grew worse when he was severely disgusted with what he was seeing. And someone prying the metal from his hand was one of those things. And despite his condition, he knew if he threw up on the antichrist, he wasn't going to be happy.

**Craig is a little offended when Stan lets go of his hand in favor for gripping Damien's hair, but he soon realizes that he's trying to push Damien away. He grabs the abandoned trash bin when Stan says 'sick' and holds it in front on him.**

_Damien feels Stan pushing weakly on his head, but he doesn't budge. He's already this far, so he's not going to stop until it's finished. Stan would only be in a fucking LOT of pain if Damien stopped, so he figures it's for both their sakes that he just gets it done and over with. He runs his tongue over the rough, broken edges of bone and along the torn tissue. It's bleeding – _a lot _– and he's trying not to fucking ingest it all but most of it is unavoidable._

_He seals the outside of Stan's hand, on the back, so that it looks normal and fleshy again. But then he flips it over and it's still oozing think blood, and one could see where the bones still aren't quite connected. He licks his lips, ridding himself of the mess he's probably made, and then goes back to work on Stan's hand. He'd heard Stan say he was getting sick, but he really can't care less if Stan is over there vomiting. He came here to do a job, and he's doing his job._

_After a few minutes, he gets Stan's bones to grow and fuse back together normally. It wouldn't take him near this long on himself, but Stan is fucking human, so it's taking a lot longer than he'd like it to. The bones were the hard part, and now it's just vein and tissue and skin and muscle. He manages to finish after another few minutes and finally backs off. He wipes his face with his hand, knowing that it was probably smeared with Stan's blood, and examines his work. Good as new._

Stan promptly threw up in the bucket, and barely had the strength to wipe his mouth off on the blanket when he realized Damien was finished. That was possibly the grossest thing he had ever watched anyone do, and he really hated that it was done to his hand. He made a mental note that he was now fearful of being shot solely because Craig would probably have him do this again. Pulling his hand away from Damien, he pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, staring at Damien. Logically, his brain wanted him to tell the other 'thank you', but he was still too disturbed. He edged over to Craig, hoping he would wrap an arm around him or something.

**Craig's eyes narrow in disgust as Damien wipes his bloody face like it's no big fucking deal. He's grateful and everything, but Damien is still a dick and he still put them through Hell. Helping them one time doesn't just make that all go away. He's still a little amazed as Stan pulls his completely healthy hand back into himself. He wraps an arm around Stan once he's curled into a sitting ball. And looks down at him and asks softly, "Does anything else hurt, still?" He rubs his thumb on Stan's shoulder idly as he stares at Stan's hand and foot. At least Damien actually helped and didn't destroy anything.**

_Damien raises both eyebrows at their somewhat gross display of affection. It was _just_ a fucking bullet wound and a broken foot, big fucking deal. He sits and waits regardless, wondering if his job is indeed done._

Stan looked over at Craig, pouting slightly as he leaned in to the other. With his hair pressed against the side of Craig's chin, he rubbed his knees as he thought about the other pain. ...no, he definitely didn't want to say it. But it did bother him, and despite of lowering his voice, Damien could probably hear him when he finally said, "...well...my tailbone, but I don't want him touching my ass."

The idea of Damien anywhere near that area freaked him out. But severe back pain probably indicated a slipped disc, and he couldn't play football with it. Bowing his head so he leaned in to Craig, he closed his eyes as he tried to imagine that they were alone and Damien hadn't just had his tongue inside his hand.

"_What's wrong with it?" Damien cuts in. "There's no way I'm fucking licking it, thanks, but I can heal it by touching you somewhere else. It'll just take longer and will probably hurt more without the aid of my bodily fluid." He doesn't even care anymore; he's bored and he wants to go home._

"Bodily fluid...ugh." Stan muttered, his eyes still closed as he narrowed his eyebrows. He was thinking how disgusting that was, and he really didn't want to picture Damien licking anywhere near there, ever.

"Ugh...fine...they said something like herniated disc in my back," He said finally, opening his eyes to look down at Craig's hand, which he was holding onto tightly.

**Craig doesn't like the idea of Damien touching anywhere near Stan's tailbone, but he also doesn't like the idea of Stan being in extra pain just to avoid the touching. He doesn't really have a say though, because it's Stan's pain, not his. He turns his eyes on Damien after Stan says what's wrong.**

_Damien simply holds out a hand when Stan says what's wrong. It's a pain in the ass to heal without touching the actual site of injury, but he can still do it. After a second, he remembers that he doesn't actually care where Stan wants him to touch him, so he just puts his offered hand on Stan's arm and closes his eyes as he tries to focus through Stan's anatomy. He mentally latches onto Stan's misplaced disk and begins to work it back into its proper place._

Cringing at Damien's touch, he felt the familiar warm feeling coarsing through him again. He couldn't tell if he hated that the feeling had become familiar, or if he actually liked it- now that the pain was less and he had basically his limbs functioning again, he was sort of pleased feeling it. ...no, this was not something he should be happy about feeling, not when he was curled up against Craig. The idea that this might be a threesome, since they were pretty much all on the bed, popped in his head. Ughhhhhhhhh. No, threesomes would involve nudity. He narrowed his eyes, wondering if Damien could read thoughts. ...damn. That would be embarrassing.

He glanced over nervously towards Damien, watching the other intently.

_Having to focus so hard through Stan's body, he accidentally picks up on a few key words of thought. He normally doesn't like listening in, because it's more fun to figure out what people are thinking on his own, but did he just hear the word _threesome_? Fucking _really_? He barks a few seconds of laughter and then gives Stan a knowing, mocking smirk. He finishes up with Stan's back and then withdraws his hand, shaking his head and chuckling again. Stan is the only human being in the world that would be thinking about that right then._

**Craig almost jumps at Damien's abrupt laughter and gives him kind of a funny look. He notices him looking at Stan, and then looks down to Stan himself, wondering what was so funny. He hugs Stan tighter to himself by his arm around Stan's shoulders and asks, "Why is he laughing?"**

Narrowing his eyes and turning a deep shade of red, he pulled his arm back and glared at Damien as he pressed his back against Craig's arm. He wasn't sure if he had heard him, but why else would he be laughing? What the hell. One would think he would warn him about something like that but then again, Damien was a huge dick, and it figured that he would be a dick when he was doing something useful. Just to even things out a bit.

"Nothing," Stan muttered angrily, turning his head to lean it against Craig's shoulder and closed his eyes. Even though he tried thinking of the word 'go away', somehow he got back to the topic of threesomes, and now he was worried Damien would find a reason to harass them - ...because of the prospect of a threesome. ...oh god. "I'm feeling sick," He mumbled, even though it was untrue. He actually felt awesome and refreshed, even though he was a bit tired. Damn Damien. He really hoped Craig would make the other leave.

"_That was two straight lies there, Craiggy, congratulations. I'm going to leave now before I'm caught up in something I really don't want to be a part of," Damien says, promptly standing up from the bed. "You're fine now, I presume," he says to Stan, still smirking like the jackass he is. He nods to Craig and says, "My job here is done," before heading for the door. That was just too fucking priceless, but he still doesn't want to be around should Stan decide that's actually something he wants._

**Craig frowns when Damien points out that Stan lied. Why would Stan lie about either of those things? Is Damien's word even trustworthy? Probably not. But still… After he leaves, Craig turns back to Stan. "Are you really sick still? Because that medication is still sitting in here, if you want it." He's glad that Damien is fucking gone. He has the notion that he should probably make sure that Damien actually left and he's still not lingering somewhere, but Damien had agreed in their deal to leave, so he can at least trust that Damien will honor that. Isn't that what the Antichrist is all about? Honoring deals?**

Sulking as Damien pointed out he lied, he pressed his head further into Craig's arm. He really didn't want to fess up about what he had really been thinking about. Backing off so he could look at Craig, he stared at the other and then reached both of his hands up to run through the other's dark hair, locking eyes with him. Oh god. That feeling of Craig's hair on both of his hands, he would have missed that the most.

"The second was a lie because I didn't want that jackass in here any longer," Stan said with an even tone, and then he frowned as he said, "...and he was reading my thoughts and I was thinking inappropriate things because ...well, ... ...you know. ...regaining function in my limbs...uh."

The stuttering probably didn't help get his point across, but he didn't care. At least it wasn't a lie. He didn't want to lie to Craig. ...but he didn't have to say what he was thinking.

"...can I just run my hands all over you," He trailed them down Craig's neck, and then moved the tips of his fingers underneath the edge of Craig's shirt.

**Craig narrows his eyes at the fact that Damien was hearing Stan think things like that… and also at the fact that he was hearing Stan think **_**anything**_**. He lets the thought fade away though, when Stan starts trailing his hands over him. "Yeah, Stan, make full use of your healthy limbs, it's not like I'm going to stop you. In fact, I'd like it a lot," he says. He leans forward and takes Stan's lips lightly with his own. He's not sure exactly what Stan is feeling; if he's still in any kind of pain or not, so he doesn't want to be rough in anyway unless Stan says it's okay.**

Trailing his hands back underneath Craig's shirt, he let his forearms rest on the other's shoulders for a few seconds as he stared at Craig. It seemed a bit surreal to be staring at Craig after what he went through - almost like he should have died, but didn't. And it mentally hurt that he had to remember what happened, and he couldn't tell Craig about it. ...no, not yet. But he wanted to, really bad - like he wanted to tell him he worried the guy would come back, but he knew he wouldn't. He'd never get into the US. ...right?

A feeling of fear crept up in his throat, making him pull his arms away so he could lean in on Craig, facing forwards with his back against the other. "Can you like, hold me for awhile? I want to tell you what happened but I need a few minutes...I need to tell someone..."

**Craig just lets his arms fall naturally around Stan as Stan leans on him. "You don't have to ask me to hold you, you know," he says, leaning his head down to nose in Stan's hair lazily. He's quiet after that, letting Stan have his time. He still doesn't know what happened – well most of what happened, anyway. He knows that Stan and Clyde were sold to some guy in Italy, and that's it. But he'd figured it would be something Stan didn't want to talk about, so he'd never pried. But now Stan wants to tell him, and he's not sure if he wants to know. But he'll listen to anything Stan has to say; Craig will always be there to at least listen, even if he can't do anything.**

"Yeah, I know," Stan said after a few minutes of thinking intensely about what happened, realizing there were chunks towards the end he didn't remember. Just a lot of fighting, and he hated fighting in the first place, so it was almost more traumatizing than it should have been for someone who didn't have his history.

"Like we were out walking and Clyde tried going after this woman on the corner, and I went after him and this truck drove up and knocked us both out and we woke up in this cage thing in this warehouse. Then they pulled us out and like, I didn't get anything that they said, they were taking pictures and they took Clyde's letterman, and then a few hours later they drug us out and roughed us up and shot us with this tranquilizing crap and shoved us in a coffin together, it was..." he reached back to find Craig's hand so he could grip it. "We woke up in that guy's like...torture room or whatever the fuck it was. He was a fucking creep, and we had no clothes on, and he told Clyde to grab me or he'd prod us with this like...picana?"

He closed his eyes, feeling his heart pounding.

"I got shocked a few times trying to protect Clyde...we had like chains on our feet so I like...I used this lotion stuff on it and cut my ankle up trying to get out...then I got it off and slept with Clyde the first night, and then the next we met Mr. Slave, he was there for some reason. He gave us food, but then the guy saw Clyde eating so he put me in this cage thing. I had to like, kick the door out, and god it fucking hurt. I fell on the floor and then like...I slept next to Clyde, and the next day the guy came back and broke my ankle by twisting it when I was asleep, I was so fucking tired I couldn't stay awake...god...and then he shot me with some sort of drug and I couldn't tell where the hell I was, and I just remember getting shot, and Clyde...Clyde was so scared, I wanted to tell him it was okay but I thought we were both going to die.."

**Craig bites his lip in frustrated pain. Why the fuck does Stan always get into these situations? And why did he have to fucking play hero? He's glad that he kept Clyde safe, but… fucking why did either of them have to get hurt? He doesn't even know what to say. Eventually, after several minutes of silence and just holding Stan close, he asks, "Are you worried about Clyde?"**

He snuggled close to the other, his eyes half-lidded with tiredness. "Yeah. ...all the time. Like I just...I had to protect him, he was crying all the time...and I like, slept with my arm around him just so I'd wake up if that creep came in...and then when that happened I just...I...well, that guy...he wanted Clyde to like, shove the picana up my ass and Clyde's face...god, I can't forget his face, even when I was drugged it was just like...horror."

He gripped Craig's hand tightly.

**Craig frowns at Stan's further explanation. He wishes he could somehow change it, somehow make it better, but he knows he can't. That just makes it hurt even more. "Um, well, if you want, he could come over. But you already know that he's a complete hug monger – it gets ridiculous sometimes – but yeah, he'll probably want to sleep in here," he says, trying to think of something he can do to make Stan feel better. Maybe because this was something he went thought with Clyde, Clyde would be able to provide emotional support or something.**

"No, it's okay...He needs his family, probably." He stared off at the wall, his eyes now open. He remembered how painful it was and flinched noticeably, and then reached down towards his ankle with the hand which had been shot. "I just...I'm not a bad person, but I wish that guy was dead. Like in the worst way possible. Maybe he died in the explosion, though..."

He had passed out before that point - he could only remember loud noises, Christophe vaguely- he had to thank Christophe eventually.

**Craig just continues to hold Stan in silence, not knowing what else to do. He sighs in his own uselessness to the situation and says, "Well if there's anything you want me to do, just say so." He buries his nose back in Stan's hair and closes his eyes. He enjoys the feeling of Stan being back in his arms, and he doesn't ever want to let Stan go again. He probably won't let Stan go anywhere on his own for a while. He wants to make sure Stan stays safe. And, honestly, he kind of wishes Stan would have agreed to have Clyde come over because he wants to keep an eye on him, too. Hell, he even wants Token there. Token can damn well take care of himself, but Craig just wants all of his bros together and safe for a while. And Ruby; he wants her to be safe too. Now that he's not at home, he worries about her, and he wonders if she's staying safe, too. He'd always, as much as he probably wouldn't talk about it, kept quite a close fucking eye on her. And now he can't parent her anymore. This whole situation made Craig realize how much he can't keep everyone as safe as he'd previously thought, and that hurts. More than he thought it would. What if any of these people gets injured or **_**dies**_**? He tries not to think about it and holds Stan a tiny bit tighter.**

"Hmmmmn," Stan murmured, not really finding anything useful to say to Craig's comment. It wasn't like he could send Craig on a manhunt to find the guy who tortured him and Clyde - and he never would want that anyways, Craig was too precious to him to ever request him to put himself in danger. Ever. No, he was satisfied for now just to be close to Craig, to think about other things. Which reminded him of his phone - he hadn't really looked at it since they gave it back in France. Reaching down and maneuvering it out of his pocket, he searched all of his messages- which was a lot - and looked for any from his family. "...oh." He said as he read through a few that made him feel a little bit like crying, and then got to the one with Randy and the guinea pig. Goddamnit.

"Craig...did I remember to tell you I gave my parents a key? My mom wanted me to, she said that's the only way I could move out..." He wasn't really sure if it was for his safety or for hers, but she seemed pretty content after he forked over a copy.

"Uh...apparently my dad thought he was supposed to take care of the guinea pigs. But he said he's giving us five hundred because I took off work to heal. ...that's going to be awkward, I'm not going to go home for awhile. ..."

**Craig tries not to tense up at that. Fucking who. Was touching. His fucking guinea pig. **_**Who**_**. He'd told Ruby to do it, and he thought Ruby was the one that took care of them while they were gone. But fucking **_**Randy **_**had been doing it? "…is that who texted me?" he asks, trying not to have his voice sound as tight as he's fucking feeling.**

**He'd almost broken Stan's motherfucking hand for petting Stripe, and someone he didn't even know had had his fucking grimy fucking paws all over fucking Stripe and his fucking food schedule and—okay he needs to not even think about this. He can't be mad at Stan. No, not right now. He's not – he can't be pissed off. He can't help the stiffening of his spine, though.**

_**Fucking someone had been in their apartment and touching their stuff and Craig's motherfucking guinea pig**_**.**

**He tries to calm himself down, but his jaw clenches and he finds himself unable to speak anymore.**

**Fucking. Hell. He can't be this mad. Just stop. Stop being angry.**

Sensing something was wrong, he looked over his shoulder at Craig. ...Did he seem tenser? ...oh god. Stan started to feel a sense of impending doom.

"...Craig?" He said worriedly as he put down his phone on the bed, and then turned to look at him. "What's wrong."

If he was pissed about Stan's dad touching the guinea pigs...oh god, he definitely wasn't going to show Craig the pictures of Randy using Monster as a mustache. He reached out to run a hand through Craig's hair, and then massaged the other's scalp a little with his fingers as he waited for his response.

"**Nothing, Stan, just relax; you had a bad week," Craig says, trying to relax himself. Normally he'd have no problems telling Stan how pissed off he is, but right now is entirely inappropriate. Stan could have died; the last thing Craig should be mad about right now is someone being in their fucking house touching **_**his fucking guinea pig**_**. No, he should just be happy that Stan is alive and that Damien was able to heal him up. Everything is okay, yeah. "It's fine," he tries again, but he's still unable to fix his body language.**

"No, it's not," Stan said as he moved closer to Craig, sensing something was wrong. What the hell - why didn't he just say what was bothering him? "Oh god...I forgot to tell you about the spare key, didn't I? I don't even...I don't remember what I did before the trip...I've like blocked it out, I'm sorry Craig," He leaned forwards and wrapped his arms around Craig's neck, hoping his hug would suffice to calm the other. "I thought my mom told you about it for some reason...ugh."

**Craig somehow manages to force himself to seem calm, even though he's far from it. "No, she didn't tell me, but it's okay. Just lay back down, Stan," he says, hugging Stan back as the other wraps his arms around his neck. He really needs to cool his fucking jets. Nothing is broken, their pigs are fine, whatever. It'll be okay.**

"He uh...left a bunch of stuff cooked, in the freezer too." He said as he turned, still uneasy about getting like smacked from behind. Craig seemed really, really fucking tense; he didn't see him like this often.. ...well, he used to cause the same reaction, so he knew it wasn't good.

"I'm sorry..." He muttered pitifully, sinking downwards into a slumped position against the other.

**Great, so he was in their fucking kitchen, too, and doing stuff instead of just taking care of the guineas like he was supposedly supposed to. "Stop apologizing," Craig says, just wrapping his arms around Stan again. This moment just needs to fucking stop and something else needs to happen so Craig can stop focusing on it.**

"Mmmmnn.." Stan hummed in response, his eyes half-lidded as he stayed in a slumped over position. With a frown, he reached back and meant to put his hand in his pocket to pull out his phone, but instead landed on Craig's crotch. Narrowing his eyes, he felt around a moment before he pulled his arm forwards again and sat there without saying anything.

"**Looking for something?" Craig asks, feeling Stan's hand suddenly on his groin. If that's Stan's plan to unanger him, it will probably work, honestly, but he hates that fact. Sex shouldn't just fix everything, but the sad truth is that it does. Though he has a feeling that's not what Stan was going for, which is why he asked.**

"No...I was ...going for my phone, but I remembered I put it on the bed...and...uh." Stan paused, feeling a little sheepish. After all, he had just pissed off Craig, and he didn't want him to think he was going for his crotch because he wanted him to forgive him. ...quickly. ...or slowly, whichever felt better, but really. ...now he couldn't get his mind off of it. ...hey, it was only like seven - why not?

"... ...did you want me to be looking for something?"

"**I thought you might be looking for something you lost or something," Craig says, which is true. If Stan had actually been going for his dick, why would he have pulled his hand away? …and now he's overanalyzing something that doesn't even need to be thought about. If they're going to something, then they're going to do it; he doesn't need to think about it first.**

"...well, I could put my hand back there and find something else that I want," Stan said slowly, but then he paused, wondering if Craig didn't feel like it. That's why he was putting it off. Oh my god, Stan thought - now he was wondering what Craig was thinking. And looking at his face wouldn't help anyways...with his eyes slightly widened, he froze as he said, "...unless you don't want my hand there..."

"**Why would I not want your hand there?" he asks. And for wherever reason, he remembers that first time, way back when, in the locker rooms. "Ha, even when I hated you I wanted your hand there enough to put it there myself," he says, remembering shoving Stan's hand down his pants. As much as their time in there sucked, it was what started their… **_**thing**_**. And what led to what they have now, so he's thankful for it in a way. It had also fucked up a lot… ruined a few good things. But do those things matter when he has Stan right there with him? Well of course they matter – those things were- are people – but Craig can't bring himself to feel as bad about it as he used to. He loves Stan, and he's happy, so it's okay.**

"...yeah, and I want my hand there too," He said as he turned towards the other, running one hand up his neck to his hair and then the other down his shirt. For a moment, he thought about what happened in Italy- but it was fleeting because the only thing he wanted in Italy was to be around Craig. With his blue eyes on Craig's grey blue ones, he leaned in to press his lips against Craig's as he unfastened the other's pant buttons. Smiling into the kiss, he said quietly, "All I wanted to do was go home...and you know, that's here with you."

**Craig doesn't comment as Stan kisses him and undoes his pants. It feels good to hear Stan call this their home, even if he already knew that. And even if home at the time was Stan's parent's house. But whatever, Stan is kissing him, and that's always more important than everything else. He leans back and lets Stan rest on top of him, winding his arms around Stan's back. His head lands on a pillow and he runs a hand up through Stan's hair. He wonders if they're even actually going to do anything, considering that earlier Stan had said he didn't even want Craig touching him.**

Reaching into Craig's pants after successfully undoing his zipper, he stroked his fingertips against the other and then pressed their lips together; his back arched slightly. Fervently pressing his body against Craig's, he moved his body away for a moment to look at the other, his hand drifting upwards to brush Craig's bangs out of his eyes.

"You feel like doing something?"

**Craig catches a quick breath at having Stan touch him for the first time in nearly a week. Dear God how he loves Stan's fucking hands. "If you're not feeling sick anymore; I don't want to if you're not up for it," he responds. Though, Stan is already touching him, so he figures that Stan is pretty damn well up for it. He leans his head back up to Stan's and connects their lips again. After a long moment, he pulls back to look Stan in the eye. He's so fucking glad that he still **_**can**_** look Stan in the eye. He doesn't know what he would do if Stan were… not there. He can't even think the word without feeling upset. He reaches a hand up to touch Stan's face, to cup his cheek. Before he really thinks about how stupid it might sound, he says, "You're never going out alone again; I'm going with you fucking everywhere, okay?"**

"You know I'll never get anything done again...well, besides you, nothing will get done," Stan said with a frown, wondering why Craig didn't trust him. Sure, he didn't want to go out alone right now- and he was pretty sure he would take Craig everywhere now anyways. But going out for a drugstore run, or picking up a prescription - that was pretty rudimentary. With a slight eye roll, he moved his hand back into Craig's pants, lifting himself up a little so he could grab the other fully in his palm.

"I really want you right now..." He leaned into Craig's touch, then turned his eyes downwards to connect with the other's. "I missed you so fucking much."

**Craig leans his hips into Stan's hand, savoring the feel of Stan touching him. "I really fucking missed you too, Stan. I don't ever want to lose you like that again," he says. "I was fucking terrified," he adds, quieter, as he leans up for another kiss. It's an intense kiss, needy, and he even brings his other hand up to cup Stan's face as well, bringing him closer. He really didn't want Stan to fucking die. No, that would have been fucking terrible. He grinds his hips up into Stan's, in the heated moment, feeling Stan's hand on him and loving every fucking second of it. It's way more than just sex with them, like they'd thought at the beginning. How could they have ever thought they could just fuck and move on? No, they have an insane amount of chemistry, and it's hard to contain. It's hard to remember a time when he hated Stan, because what they have is just so **_**good**_**.**

"Mmmm, I know...I'm not going anywhere again, okay...I'll just stay in here," He grinned provocatively as he moved his hand, closing his palm against Craig's hardening cock. With a leisurely movement of his wrist, he started rubbing against the other, and then leaned in to kiss Craig on the lips again as he whispered, "Just put that collar on me and tie me to the bed."

He moved his hand away from Craig's pants only so he could scoot backwards and tug the other's pants and boxers from his narrow hips. Once they were down far enough, revealing the other to the air, he moved upwards to grip him firmly again as he leaned in and pumped slowly, locking eyes with Craig as he did so. His bangs were falling in the way of his eyes as he watched the other. His mind was somewhere dirty, but it was also wading in the pool of romantic ideas that constantly floated around his head.

"I know I like...started this off...well...can we like, make love tonight?"

It even sounded stupid when he voiced it out loud. God, there would never be a good time for that...

**Craig laughs a bit, despite being completely distracted by the hand on his cock. "Well I don't think a leash and collar really add to the 'romantic' quality, Stan," he says, giving Stan a grin. "But we can do anything you want; as long as I'm with you I don't fucking care," he says. After he says it, though, he realize how damned cheesy it sounded and he curses himself in his head for being so… whatever it is he was being. But Stan is a romantic, right? Maybe he likes cheesy.**

Still using his fully healed hand to do a function it couldn't possibly before, he smiled at Craig's attempt to be romantic. Damn, he had to basically be tricked into saying something romantic, didn't he? Moving his hand from Craig's dick to the hem of his shirt, he pulled it off and threw it aside, and then went to unfasten his belt. Apparently Craig didn't want to do much...A small feeling of worry was forming in the pit of his stomach. Maybe Craig wasn't into it.

"Same, but...are you sure you're into this? Like..." He thought of what could have caused Craig's lack of participation. "...did Damien kill the mood?"

"**What do you mean?" Craig asks, not understanding Stan's worry. "No, Damien didn't do anything, it's just… I don't want to do anything you don't want me to because earlier you said you didn't want me to touch you and I don't want to… be bad for you," he says, not sure how to finish that thought. Of course he wants Stan, he always wants Stan. Always. "Just tell me what you want me to do and I'll do it," he says, figuring that to be an easy solution to this moment. If Stan tells him exactly what he wants, then Craig won't do anything wrong.**

"...like..." Stan paused, his expression falling flat. "...simon says, only with sex." Great, now their romantic lovemaking was reduced to a game of 'no, don't touch there, I might freak out'. With a sigh, he removed himself from Craig, and pulled himself over to sit on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched over. "Can we just like... ...be romantic, and shit. I just...I don't know. ...slow."

Truthfully, after what had happened - he was hoping they didn't use bondage for awhile. He just wanted to be embraced and told that nothing would happen to him, that he was safe...Sadly, living next to Damien didn't help but at least he was getting used to the fact that the Antichrist occupied the living quarters to their right. At least he could think that he was safe from him - that other guy could have been anywhere. Thinking anything. Sending anyone to kill him and Clyde just so they didn't give any information away about what they heard. ...damn, it was scary to think about it, but everyone seemed to think the problem was gone.

"I just want you close.."

**Craig sits up when Stan removes himself from him. He look s over at him and listens to him talk. He understands what Stan wants, and moves to hug him. "I can do that," he says, hugging Stan to his chest and leaning his head to the side to reach Stan's cheek for a kiss. "I love you," he says, squeezing around Stan's shoulders a bit. He's had a lot of practice with 'slow,' having been with Tweek for so long, but he's just never done it like that with Stan. "Just lay on your back, okay?" he says quietly, loosening his hold so that Stan can move. He'll take care of Stan, and make sure he feels good. Stan deserves at least that much after what he went through.**

"Yeah.." Stan said quietly, wanting to say something snarky like 'what, and let you do all the work because obviously I'm indisposed', but he held back. No, he just wanted Craig to hug him, and being really moody usually had an adverse reaction. With little visible reluctance, he moved to lay on his back, shifting himself so his legs weren't hanging off the side of the bed. He looked at Craig with an eyebrow perked upwards, but he didn't question why he had him lay on his back when he was still fully clothed. No, before he would have gotten aggravated about how slow this was - but right now, he didn't mind the snail-like pace of things. Just as long as they existed together right now.

**Craig crawls on top of Stan and lowers his head to give him a kiss. He lets their lips move together easily for a moment before sliding a hand up under Stan's shirt. He rubs his thumb along Stan's abdomen, caressing his skin before pushing further upward and lifting the shirt. He parted their lips to pull the shirt off before bending back down and licking past Stan's lips to give him a deeper kiss. He runs his hands over Stan's bared chest and lets his thumbs ghost over Stan's nipples. He's never really done that with Stan, and he absently wonders how Stan will react to it. Regardless, he continues to just feel him, letting his hands explore Stan's chest as he tongue explores Stan's mouth.**

Pressing into the kiss, he moved his hands up the neck of the other's shirt to brush past the tiny hairs of Craig's neck to weave into the thicker hair above it. He had to mentally tell himself not to pull on the other's hair, he didn't want it to go from sweet to rough - despite the temptation to.

When the other began caressing his skin lightly, his brow furrowed as he tried to keep his mouth from twitching into a smile. Was he...? Yeah, he was pretty sure Craig was conscious of what he was doing, unless he somehow smuggled a doobie in the time he walked out to get towels. Well, it was sort of interesting to see this side of Craig, and Stan couldn't deny that he liked it.

With his fingers lacing through the other's hair gently, he moved the rough edge of his tongue against Craig's.

**Craig gave a small involuntary moan at having Stan's fingers against his scalp. He moves his hands across Stan's chest, and slowly down his sides, feeling Stan's skin naturally goose bump at the light touches. He kisses Stan thoroughly, making sure to give a melting amount of effort. He just wants Stan to relax, and have the intimacy he wants. He leaves Stan's lips after nearly a full minute, leaving Stan's kiss swollen and red as he moves to kiss his jaw, his neck, working his way down Stan's collarbone, his shoulder, to his chest, leaving sweet, feathering kisses against his skin. "I love you a lot, Stan," he mutters against the other's chest, pressing a warm kiss square on his sternum.**

Gently tugging at the other's hair, he let the other move down his body and watched him as soon as he left the kiss. It was actually kind of surprising to Stan that Craig was capable of being intimiate; he assumed Craig didn't have the emotional capacity to know what was sweet. Maybe he was just playing dumb, or he was just damn lazy. Who knew. Humming slightly as the other kissed his chest, he massaged his hands against Craig's scalp and watched him with half-lidded eyes. "I love you more," He challenged the other, knowing it was probably not the time to start a competition - but he couldn't help it.

"**Hm, maybe, probably not," Craig says. He brings himself back up Stan's torso to kiss him on the mouth again. After a moment, he picks himself up to take his own shirt off. He peels it up over his head and deposits it next to them on the bed before stooping back down to nose at Stan's neck. Their chests brush together and he presses another kiss below Stan's jaw. He remembers, somehow having forgotten, that his pants are half off from Stan's earlier ministrations. He dips his hips in a slow roll against Stan's, silently asking if he can take Stan's off, too. The answer is most likely yes, but he still wants to feel their bodies pressed together anyway.**

"No, really," Stan said with his brow narrowed, "I love you more," He watched as the other stripped on top of him, wondering how he stayed fit at all. He never seemed to do anything to stay in shape. Like ever. Then again, his muscles were more defined than Craig's, but Craig was so goddamn strong. Realizing he was probably looking a bit lost, he was pulled back as the other nuzzled his neck. Placing a kiss on the top of Craig's head before he moved further away, he let out a drawn out groan as the other ground his hips against his. "Teasing?" He asked with a single word, wondering if this was part of the lovemaking or if Craig was trying to turn it into something else.

**Not wanting to turn it into some kind of weird 'no I love you more' argument, Craig just lets it drop and moves himself down Stan's bare torso again. He trails his lips town the center of Stan's body and stops once he hits Stan's pants. He uses his hands to unfasten Stan's belt and then his pants. He tugs the rest of Stan's clothes off, and then rids himself of his own. He settles on his knees between Stan's legs and leans back into Stan to give him another kiss. He reaches toward their nightstand to find the lubricant and pops it open once he does. He stops though, to make sure Stan is actually okay. "You want to have sex, right? Because I'm okay with just laying here and kissing you a lot; I like it," he says. True it's not quite as… well, not the same as sex, but he's still enjoying it. He appreciates Stan, and he just wants to show him that right now. He'd be kind of lost of Stan weren't there, so he wants to make the best of it.**

"No, I want-" With an abrupt stop, Stan withheld his sarcastic retort. Was he trying to unknowingly sabotage this? It was so ...unusual. But nice. "Yeah, I want sex. Unless...you know, if you don't want it."

Then why would he take off their clothes? Stan rolled his eyes at the thought of Craig not wanting it- of course he wanted it, that's why they were nude.

He just wanted Craig touching him again at this point - it really felt like he was trying to lead him on with all the physical interaction, but then propose no intercourse. What the hell. It vaguely reminded him of back when it took three questions before Craig would do anything - it was more like a pop quiz before sex.

**Without verbal response, he just simply squeezes the lube onto his fingers and spreads it out over them. He lifts Stan's hips and brings his hand behind him. He slips the first finger inside, working Stan open as he leans down to kiss him again. He slides in the second finger, slowly stretching him and preparing him. He strokes at Stan's insides, invading him deeply and easing in the third finger. He seeks out Stan's prostate and strokes at it when Stan gives a physical response. "You ready?" he asks, continuing to work his fingers in a way he hopes makes Stan's toes fucking curl.**

"_Nggggnnnnn_, _**god**_..." His eyes closed as he felt Craig's fingers wriggle their way inside him, pressing at the sides of the cavity. His toes curled slightly as the third finger went in, and he arched his back as he pressed against the others' hand.

"Yes...just...yes..." He managed to say as he reached out to grab Craig's hair again, this time pulling it slightly harder than he did before.

**Craig removes his fingers and promptly goes for the lubricant again. He slicks himself over and places himself back against Stan's entrance. He leans down to give Stan a soft kiss as he pushes his way inside, taking his time to make sure that Stan can feel **_**all of him**_**. "Mm," he expresses, running his hands back up Stan's sides as he continues to kiss him. God how he loves the feeling of being inside Stan.**

Feeling the texture of Craig's cock pressing into him, the tightness made his muscles contract and his body tense as he gripped the sheets on the bed at first. Then his hands edged down to rest on Craig's hands, gripping the other's wrists as he held his sides, moving away only when the other moved his hands further up. They once again went to the sheets for a white-knuckling grip, his reddened face burning as he moved himself in a way that would give Craig an easier time leveraging himself inside of him.

**Craig complies with Stan's shift and begins to slowly pump into him at Stan's chosen angle. He smiles into their hiss before pulling away and focusing on his easy thrusts. He made sure to push all the right buttons, and to press into Stan in all the right ways. He brought a hand up from Stan's side and ran the fingertips along Stan's shaft before taking him in a loose fist and pumping him in time with his own thrusting.**

Wrapping his legs around the other's waist, his feet curled slightly - he moved in rhythym with the other as they slowly rocked together. His face was flushed red, his eyes shut as he moaned, then said, "Craig...I..love you most," As if he couldn't let the issue go, even when they were locked together and Craig had a hand around his dick. His upper teeth ran over the edge of his bottom lip, his hands still gripping the sheets.

**Craig sighs a bit of a laugh at Stan's insistence on the matter. "Why can't we just love each other the same?" he asks, leaning back down to kiss Stan's neck again. He trails kisses all around, and then up Stan's jaw and finally meeting his lips again. Even at this slow pace, he doesn't know how much longer he can last. Stan's reaction always get to him, and seeing how hot and bothered Stan is on the mattress, it's almost too much.**

"No, more, always," Stan insisted, not letting Craig win - no. Tensing even more as he reached his climax, he squeezed his thighs against Craig's hips, pushing his legs together to trap the other in between them. He wanted to hold off for once, just so Craig went _before _him - just because he couldn't remember when the last time was when Craig went first.

**Craig continues to rock their bodies together, and eventually has to stop with his kisses to bite into his own lip. Damn, Stan is holding off this time, and the pressure building in Craig's cock in getting to be unbearable. He works his hand a little faster, not wanting to break their sweet moment by getting rough with it. Just a little longer, he's sure.**

Determined to hold out longer so the other released first, Stan tightened his legs around Craig and then said loudly, "I love feeling you thrusting inside me...**ughhhhhhh**, _**Craig**_," He moaned loudly, sounding a bit pained and breathlessly as he added, "**Fuck**."

He moved his left leg to put the heel of his foot between Craig's end, pressing inwards and moving down - massaging his ass with the ball of his foot.

**Craig's brain stutters at Stan's words – did Stan seriously really just say that? It makes it harder to hold on, but he keeps trying anyways. He doesn't persevere long though, Stan's voice resonating in his head – **_**I love feeling you thrusting inside of me**_** – and he bites his lip hard as he comes with an audible "**_**Fuck**_**." He hates himself for it, because he should never come first, but he presses on, continuing to thrust into Stan and riding out his orgasm, making sure that Stan will get off.**

With a whimper, Stan couldn't even tell who got off first because he came at nearly the same time. Chest heaving, he felt chills as he felt the change, and he gripped the mattress like he was going to fall. "Craig..." He muttered, feeling sort of bad, but at the same time ...accomplished.

**Craig pulls out of Stan after they've both finished, and doesn't bother moving over before he lets his muscles relax. He lands his head on Stan's chest and just lays there, breathing in Stan's scent and the air and just everything that is them. He's so fucking glad that Stan isn't hurt anymore.**

Moving his hand to rest it on Craig's hair, he ruffled it slightly before he brushed back Craig's sweat dampened bangs. Tracing his fingertips around the other's temple, he said quietly, "Okay, fine, we love each other equally," He said as he shut his eyes, finally hit with the wave of tiredness he had been feeling earlier. He might be healed, but it was incredibly exhausting- and the medication he had been taking still was in his system. The thought that it might have made Damien woozy made him grin, but he quickly turned his attention back on Craig as he rested his hands on the other's lean shoulders, his thumb rubbing the back of Craig's neck as he drifted off.

**Craig lazily leans into Stan's hand, urging him to keep playing with his hair as he falls asleep. He's vaguely aware of the bloody towels that are still next to them, but he doesn't think he cares. He manages to work the blanket over them without having to move too much and just stays n his place laying on Stan. He just hopes he's not heavy, and he starts to doze off.**


	44. 07 04 2012

07.04.2012

* * *

Stan leaned against the window, watching the trees pass as they neared Uncle Jimbo's house in the country. He really hated going there - so many mounted dead animal heads on the walls, it was never clean, and the alcohol - dear god. His family was probably already there, and probably a few of Jimbo and Ned's military buddies.

"Okay, when we get there, just...I mean, I know you want them to like you, but it's okay to say no, Craig, like really," He cautioned the other, in the most serious tone he could muster. He was worried Jimbo would get Craig killed- he was pretty sure that his uncle and his friend lived on pure luck.

"Like if they hand you a lit boutique of bottle rockets, put the fucker down."

That was a fun year, when he was fifteen. Yeah. Almost lost his hand back then too.

**Craig gives Stan a look before returning his eyes to the road. "Why would anyone hand me… okay, and what do I say to refuse? Because I'm not going to be rude and make everyone hate me," he says. He doesn't like the idea of meeting everyone in Stan's family all at once; it was hard enough to get Sharon to like him. And, god, what about Stan's dad? Does he even know about Craig? What will everyone say when they realize that he's not Wendy? He really doesn't care what they think, but he knows that Stan does, so that makes Craig care.**

"No, it's totally okay to just throw that down on the ground and stomp it out, okay? My dad and I do it all the time," Stan said, narrowing the culprits for the act down. He didn't want to come out and say it - Uncle Jimbo had a bigger death wish than he did and shot off fireworks all the time - but he needed to warn Craig that lighting huge amounts of explosives was in his near future.

"Just be careful, okay, no one will dislike you for not lighting things on fire. Like, don't try to act cool about it either. Last year Shelly singed off three quarters of her hair because a tank firework took off the ground and shot into her hair, burned it right off." He left out the part about uncle Jimbo taking a 22 caliber pistol and shooting the tank halfway through it going off.

"You know, we don't have to do this...we're like two minutes out, but not down the path where anyone can see us- we could turn around and say I'm sick or something," He still didn't know what to say about his hand healing - which was why he was wearing gloves and long pants and boots in the smouldering weather.

"**I'm not going to just let you ditch on your family; isn't this important or something?" Craig asks, taking a street toward the highway. He's never been one for his own family functions, and he's glad that now he has Stan's to go to. He'd never really gone to Tweek's stuff; Tweek always went to Craig's. So this will be pretty much the first time Craig has ever had to impress a whole fucking family. Fucking Christ.**

"No, I mean...if you're not ready to meet them..." He was trying to make up an excuse, but Stan was horrible at lying. He really just didn't want to go, but if he said that it would sound like he didn't care about his family. ...which he did on some level, but they were a lot to put up with.

"Okay, whatever. Look, we're almost there, let's just get this over with."

He sort of wanted to enjoy watching fireworks with Craig, but at the same time, with Shelly watching, Jimbo setting off the fireworks (and Ned helping), Randy doing god knows what, and his mom's stare...this would be the most uncomfortable romantic setting ever.

"Goddamnit this is going to suck." Stan muttered, though he wasn't sure if Craig would be able to hear him.

"**Well, I mean, if you don't **_**want**_** to go, then we don't have to. But if you're trying not to go for my sake, then I'm fine. I can handle a freaking party," Craig says. He makes another turn, and he's pretty sure it's a straight shot the rest of the way there. "We don't have to go to a party to see fireworks," he says, giving Stan a crooked grin. It was a really bad joke, and Craig doesn't joke often so it wounded even more out of place, but it was intended to make Stan not as… what is Stan. Anxious? Upset? Whatever he is, Craig needs to make him feel better.**

"Dude, that was lame, even for a romantic person," Stan said as he rolled his eyes, but smiled a bit nervously at Craig's attempt to alleviate his anxiety. There was nothing he could do to prevent Stan from being miserable though - his family was a wreck at all times, and though a lot of people thought they were amusing to watch, no one knew the true workings of the Marsh household. All of the secret annoyances they could drive into one's brain over prolonged exposure...it was sometimes too much to handle. Wendy somehow managed to cope with it, but she usually only stayed around Sharon - a smart move. Craig wouldn't be so lucky since he was...well, a guy.

"We're almost there," He said as he noticed the trees starting to close in- pretty soon they'd only see trees. The air was already thick and muggy, despite being inside the car.

"**Eh, I tried," Craig says, his voice a dry kind of humored. "But the offer stands; we can either go to this party or pull off the side of the road and have sex instead, because that's as great a celebration as any other," he says keeping on down the road. He can see a house, and he's pretty sure it's Stan's uncle's. He's never been there, so he can't be positive, but it's the only one in the middle of all these damned trees so where else would it be?**

Just so Craig knew he had hit the right spot, Stan gestured towards the house out a ways. "That's his house," He said plainly, as if it wasn't evident by his gesturing. With a frown, he leaned against the seat and tensed up, wondering why he had to go at all. There were plenty of other holidays that didn't involve explosives. ...With a pause, he realized that when Uncle Jimbo was involved, explosives were a way of life. Damn, really there weren't any holidays without them.

"Uh..just park in the grass."

**Craig pulls into the grass where Stan had pointed. He parks his car and looks over at Stan. "You ready?" he asks, not wanting to get out of the car until Stan says so. Stan seems stressed about it, so he doesn't want to take it too fast.**

**Uncle Jimbo**: Before Stan could respond, Uncle Jimbo had opened the drivers side door and looked in, one arm resting on the top of the car.

"Hello there boys! Oh, this must be your significant other, huh Stan? Nice to meet you. Tucker, right? Well why don't you boys come on in and get comfortable, Ned's dragging out some of the small boxes of fireworks. Oh, and Stan, there's some smoke bombs in there too if you want to toss them at your sister." He hit the top of the car with his hand for emphasis before he walked off towards the back of the house.

**Stan Marsh**: "Oh God," Stan muttered as Uncle Jimbo walked off.

**Randy Marsh**: "Sharon, Stan's here! Sharon! I'm going to go say hi to the kids Sharon, there's burgers on the grill so if you could just check on it like, to make sure my dogs don't get burned, that'd be so totally cool Sharon!" Randy yelled towards the small house as he walked backwards towards the car, and then turned to walk the rest of the way. Opening Stan's side of the car, he looked in as he said. "So, uh, hey, Stan. And...uh, hey Craig. It's Craig, right?" He looked at Craig as he ducked down to see into the car.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan merely watched his father walk towards the car backwards, wondering if he was going to fall and trip on something. Luckily he didn't. When he opened the door, Stan unbuckled his seatbelt and looked towards Craig, waiting for the other to clear up his name. He figured Craig would want to answer the easier questions, anyways.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig watches as someone opens the car door, rattling on about fireworks. That must be Stan's uncle. He doesn't even have time to respond to anything before the guy walks away, and then soon enough Randy is standing there instead. "Yeah, Craig," he says, staring at the man. He'd been a little nervous about meeting Stan's dad, but actually seeing him… he has a feeling that he had no reason to be nervous.

**Uncle Jimbo**: "Aw, hell, Ned! Don't light that yet, it's not even dark!" A whir of a larger firework exploded over the house, pieces of burning ash fell on the ground near the car.

**Randy Marsh**: "So, uh..." He focused his dark eyes on Craig for a moment, and then looked back at Stan, who was staring right at him. "...So you two are, like..."

**Stan Marsh**: "Together, yeah dad."

**Randy Marsh**: "...oh. Well, Craig...nice to meet you." He paused, letting an awkward silence pass as he leaned on the car, but stared off towards the dash. "Okay, well there's hotdogs and burgers on the grill and I think Uncle Jimbo wanted you to go in the back and help him with the fireworks. Something about chinese imports, I don't know, he said something about our neighbors complaining about the noise."

**Stan Marsh**: "...But..." Stan paused, narrowing his eyes nervously. "...the nearest neighbors are miles away, dad."

**Randy Marsh**: "Right. Well it's going to be fun, you two should come inside and visit - it's hot out here, woo," He stood up and pinched his shirt and pulled it away a bit as he walked back up to the house.

**Stan Marsh**: Pausing a moment, he slowly looked towards Craig and then towards the ignition. "Okay, just shut your door and let's go back home."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig raises an eyebrow after Randy leaves, giving Stan a look. "How did he not know you were with me when you moved out?" he asks, but then decides that he shouldn't care. Who Stan told was Stan's business. "Never mind. Do you actually want to leave or do you want to eat burgers first? We can eat and be polite or whatever and then leave if you want to," he says. He doesn't want to just abandon the party without even saying anything, though he's not sure why he cares. If Stan is saying leave, he should just leave.

**Stan Marsh**: "It's my dad, he probably will forget after today and act surprised the next time he sees you," Stan scoffed slightly as he opened his door further and climbed out, then shut it behind him. Staring out towards the house, he noticed the windows were open - great. No air conditioning, just fans and the nonexistant breeze. The house was pretty small too - he heard his mom's voice, and then Shelly's. God, Shelly.

"If Shelly asks you anything just tell her to go to hell, I really don't give a shit if you impress her. She's a bitch," Stan said hotly as he walked towards the house, shoving his hands deep in his jean pockets.

**Uncle Jimbo**: "Ned, look out! Hahaha, that bottle rocket almost got your leg!"

**Ned**: "Nnnnnn- not good,

**Uncle Jimbo**: "Let me go get my handgun, we can set them off from a distance. Safety first."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig gets out of the car as well, going around to Stan's side. He hears some shouting and instantly has a new understanding for Stan's warning. Okay, so don't go near those two, go it. He just takes Stan's hand, trying to be a bit of comfort in this potentially awkward gathering and urges him to head for the house.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan waited for Craig to follow him before he went inside the door. Once inside, he let his eyes adjust before he walked further in to the sitting area. Ugh, Shelly was there. He decided to walk past her and to the kitchen, where his mother was putting out some appetizers.

**Shelly Marsh**: Shelly watched the door as it opened and in walked her little brother. She actually gave him a small knowing smile, her phone in her hands. She had been playing a game boredly, listening to the explosions in the back. Noticing how the other completely ignored her, her eyes followed his retreating form as he entered the kitchen. It was okay. But she did notice Craig as well, and as soon as Stan moved into the kitchen, she said to Craig, "Hey. Tucker. Come sit over here."

She patted the seat next to her.

**Sharon Marsh**: "Hi Stan," She greeted Stan as he entered the kitchen, and then she went back to pushing the fries into the oven. After spending all morning cleaning the oven because Jimbo and Ned used it as a place to meld metal to craft things for Etsy, she was exhausted and just starting the appetizers.

"Craig is here, right?"

**Stan Marsh**: "Yeah. I'm going to tell him to stay away from Uncle Jimbo," He said with ease, picking up a chip from a mixing bowl.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig wants to reach for Stan's hand again once they're inside, having lost it, but he just ends up standing near Shelly while Stan heads off into the kitchen. He doesn't know what to say when she talks to him, because Stan said to ignore her, but maybe he should sit… maybe. "Uh, sure," he says, pulling out the chair she'd indicated to sit in it.

**Shelly Marsh**: She leaned back in her chair, smiling genuinely at Craig. "So how're things with you and my brother? Is he being an ass with you too or is that just special for me?" She knew very well that it was because of their history together; her anger issues made Stan an easy target for stress relief because of his sensitive nature.

**Stan Marsh**: "Mom, can we just stay twenty minutes and eat and then leave...I don't want Uncle Jimbo to blow up my boyfriend." Stan realized after a moment that it was the first time he had said 'boyfriend', to his mother, referring to Craig. It made him frown slightly as he studied his mother's unchanging expression. Maybe she was just that used to it now - he didn't know.

**Randy Marsh**: "SHARON! SHARON, THIS BURGER LOOKS EXACTLY LIKE GEORGE WASHINGTON'S FACE ON MOUNT RUSHMORE! SHARON, LOOK AT THIS!" His father ran in through the back door in the kitchen holding up the spatula with a burger on it. In his eagerness, it flipped off and hit the floor with a splat. "Aw, damnit. I was going to sell that on ebay like that Grilled Cheese that looked like Jesus...or Cheesus, whatever they called it. Oh well, hey Sharon would you pick that up? It's closer to you," He walked out the door and let the screen door rattle behind him.

**Sharon Marsh**: Sharon sighed as she bent down and picked up the burger patty, and then threw it in the sink. "Stan, this is a family gathering - stay at least for fireworks."

**Stan Marsh**: "But mom..."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig looks around the room slowly, taking in the scenery but mostly just avoiding looking at Shelly. "We're fine," he says simply, not knowing what else to say. Sure, Stan is an insufferable bitch sometimes, but he's not about to tell Shelly that. And it's not like those times are extremely damaging to their relationship, so why even mention it?

**Uncle Jimbo**: The front door slammed open and Jimbo walked in. "Ah, Tucker! C'mon out and help us set up the fireworks! We have some that were made in China so I'm sure one or two will go off when we're putting them up..." He paused a moment, a grin on his face, "Ahhhh, naw, I'm just pullin' your leg, let's go!" Before Craig could object, he went back out the door again.

**Shelly Marsh**: "You should probably go," She said as she looked down at her phone, losing interest in Craig when he didn't give more than a 'we're fine' response. If he was going to be a dick, then she wasn't going to put up with him. Even if Stan was her only sibling, she didn't have to overexert herself trying to earn the trust of him and his current hook-up.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig doesn't know what to do when Stan's uncle asks him to come outside. He really doesn't feel like dying, but he doesn't just want to flat out say no and be _that_ guy. "Uh, no, I think I'll stay here," he says to Shelly, using her as an excuse to stay inside. She seems at least safer than the two outside do. "How was your, uh, day?" he asks. Trying to start a conversion with someone you don't like and don't want to talk to is hard to do.

**Shelly Marsh**: "It was great." She said calmly, now completely uninterested in continuing their conversation. Without so much as looking at Craig, she stood up and walked to the front door and disappeared out, just so Craig would feel awkward.

**Sharon Marsh**: "No buts, you should stay here, we don't get to see you as often now Stan, I want to spend more time with you." With a frown, she grabbed the bowl of chips and headed out back. ...out back.

**Stan Marsh**: Goddamnit, they were all going out where Jimbo and Ned were setting up fireworks. He wondered if someone conned Craig into going out back. Wait... He had completely forgotten Craig was supposed to follow him, just so he didn't have to socialize with his insane family. Goddamnit! Tracing his steps backwards he found himself in the living room and Craig sitting in a chair. "Oh god, who talked to you? Did they tell you to go outside?"

**Craig Tucker**: Craig scowls when Shelly leaves him. What a bitch, abandoning him like that. He soon stops caring when Stan comes back into the room. He likes Stan a lot fucking more anyways, so screw her. "Uh, Shelly, and your uncle. Yeah, he told me to go outside, something about Chinese fireworks," he says, Standing to meet Stan halfway because he was extremely uncomfortable where he was.

**Stan Marsh**: "Okay...you ignored her, right? Just...don't say anything, we'll leave after like an hour." Stan said, glancing nervously towards the door. Motioning for Craig to follow him out the door, he opened the door and went outside. Occasionally, he turned to look over his shoulder at Craig as they stood there.

**Uncle Jimbo**: "Stan! Here, take a beer!" He shoved one at Stan, and he took the beer with a startled expression. Opening his mouth to object, Uncle Jimbo ignored what he said as he waved his other hand - the one with the handgun. "Wait, Ned! Little to the right! That way they'll set off like dominos for like a mile!"

**Randy Marsh**: "Hey Jimbo...isn't that a bit close to that big dead tree there?" Randy sipped a beer in his hand, and narrowed his eyes with little concern.

**Uncle Jimbo**: "Aw, naw Randy - I've set off bombs right next to that and it's never burst into flames!"

**Randy Marsh**: "Oh, okay."

**Craig Tucker**: Noticing the uncomfortable look on Stan's face, he plucks the beer from his hand. "If you don't want it, just put it down," he says simply, finding a nearby table to set it on before coming back to Stan's side. He doesn't want to be left without Stan again with these people that he doesn't know. He'd probably end up saying or doing something that he really shouldn't.

**Sharon Marsh**: Watching Craig and Stan from a distance, she smiled slightly when she noticed Craig took the beer from Stan and put it on a table. She went back to flipping the burgers from where she was next to Randy, who was lurking near the grill, occasionally checking his work.

**Ned**: "Nnnnduck!" Ned said loudly as he could, walking quickly towards the deck. He put his good arm over his head for protection.

**Uncle Jimbo**: "Duck? Nothing- oh god, I think I see it moving! Hold on Ned, I'll shoot it!" He aimed at one of the fireworks and shot it, and then it exploded with a bang, bursting into flames instead of actual fireworks. "Got it!"

**Stan Marsh**: Looking at Craig with his face vacant of expression, he mouthed 'the house isn't safe either'. One year they actually had to move out after a bottle rocket went through the window and burned up the kitchen.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig watches the firework explode into flames, and he's damn glad he's nowhere near that tree. He looks to Stan and kind of wonders how he can stay so calm seeming with such a… not dangerous but… yeah, such a fucking dangerous family. Craig's family just sat around and talked and bitched and exchanged occasional gifts and flipped each other off. It was so boring compared to this.

**Randy Marsh**: "The hot dogs are ready - Stan, do you want a weiner?" Randy paused, wondering if that was an inappropriate question to ask his newly out of the closet son. "I mean, do you want a hot dog, Stan?" He was already pouring relish on one inside a bun, and he put another next to it and did that one as well before he walked over and handed them to Stan. "Here, for you guys."

**Sharon Marsh**: "Randy..." She sighed in irritation, glaring towards Shelly as she watched her daughter play on her phone. "Shelly, there's no service out here, what are you doing?"

**Shelly Marsh**: "Playing a dating game, mom," Shelly retorted hotly, jamming the buttons on her phone.

**Stan Marsh**: "Because she can't get an actual guy to stick around," Stan muttered critically under his breath as he looked around for the folding chairs - he spotted two leaning up against the house, near Shelly. As he walked up, she stuck out her foot, which he stepped over nimbly. "Fuck you,"

**Sharon Marsh**: "Stanley."

**Stan Marsh**: "Ugh." He walked by her and grabbed two chairs, and circled widely around Shelly on his way back. Unfolding the chairs, he set them extremely close to one another and then motioned for Craig to sit down.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig sits when Stan sets the chairs down, handing Stan back his hot dog. "Well this is fun," he says, trying to get Stan to not focus on the other things that are clearly ticking him off. It's not exactly a lie, it's entertaining at the least.

**Stan Marsh**: Eating his hotdog, he stayed quiet for thirty minutes at least after finishing. He tried dragging out the hot dog eating, doing everything short of making out with it, just to occupy more of their time. Now it was getting dark, and after watching Ned trot around setting up the fireworks and listening to several of Uncle Jimbo's war stories, they were starting to discuss setting off the fireworks.

**Uncle Jimbo**: Picking up a huge gun with a large barrel, the man with a cap started talking loudly as if he was addressing everyone. "Okay, so we're going to try something new- we've got this rocket launcher that we found at a military junk sale. It's probably illegal, but we shot it off yesterday and it's really safe," He looked at Sharon, smiling as she looked on disapprovingly in his direction.

**Randy Marsh**: "Aww, cool! Can I touch it?" Randy reached out to touch the gun, and then said, "Sweet."

**Ned**: "Just don't fire up," Ned put in his two cents, then walked over to the hotdogs and picked one off the grill and bit into it.

**Uncle Jimbo**: "Right, Ned. Anyways, everyone stand back, I'm going to fire at that chinese firebomb right there." He motioned towards the largest firework.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan gripped the side of his chair and then leaned over and whispered, "Maybe we should leave now, okay..."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig would have objected again, but this actually sounds like it might explode and kill every single one of them. "Uh, if you want to," he says, agreeing with Stan's plan to escape potential death.

**Uncle Jimbo**: "And bombs away!" Before Stan could run, Jimbo pulled the trigger on the rocket launcher. The rocket sailed through the air and planted right next to the chinese firebomb - which blew up, and ignited the other fireworks. Soon things were flying through the air and exploding, bright colors and loud squealing noises erupted the almost-silence. Jimbo threw a fist into the air, and yelled something that wasn't audible with all of the noise from the explosives.

**Stan Marsh**: Covering his ears with his palms, he closed his eyes and leaned towards Craig, trying to tune out the display, hoping nothing flew in their direction. Every year he did this, it was sort of like a ritual - the one time a year he actually strongly believed in god and prayed that he'd live to see tomorrow.

**Ned**: Crossing his arms over his chest to watch from behind dark sunglasses, Ned turned his head and then watched an alien glider light up and land on their shed. "Nnooo, Jimbo - shed,"

**Uncle Jimbo**: "Aw, hell! Everyone get in the house!" Jimbo yelled, motioning for everyone to get inside.

Sharon and Randy rushed inside after Shelly, and Ned grabbed Stan by the collar, who in turn grabbed onto Craig and rushed inside. Watching as the shed lit on fire, Randy turned to Jimbo and said, "Jimbo, what's in that shed?"

**Uncle Jimbo**: "Uh...that's classified Randy, everyone get to the front of the house."

There was a moment of deafening silence as the fireworks died down after ten minutes, the shed still burning. Then the roof tilted inwards, and there was a blinding explosion that blasted out all of the windows in the back.

**Uncle Jimbo**: "Thank god the nukes were in the garage, right Ned?"

**Ned**: "Yep."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig doesn't even have time to think before he's being dragged back through the house. "Holy fucking shit," he mutters to Stan, wondering if they're serious about having nukes. "Yeah, we can go now," he adds, not wanting to stick around any longer.

**Uncle Jimbo**: "Okay, we can do the bonfire now, I set it up a ways out so it's a bit of a walk through the dark..."

**Stan Marsh**: "Hey Uncle Jimbo? I think we're going to head out. There's uh...some fireworks near Stark's, and we want to watch those together."

**Uncle Jimbo**: "That's okay, sport! Okay, well, I hope you two have a good time out there. Be careful, there's nasty raccoons that live in the trees around that spot. If you lay on one you're askin' for a claw up your ass." He walked over to Stan and patted him on the shoulder a bit roughly, and then walked over with Ned and Randy and started talking about the damages. "Not as bad as 2008 but that's going to cost a pretty penny...good thing Ned gets disability."

**Sharon Marsh**: "Bye Stan, Craig - have a good night," Sharon said with a smile, not objecting to their departure after nearly being blown up.

**Stan Marsh**: "Bye mom." He looped his arm through Craig's, and dragged him for the door after waving to his dad- who he was pretty sure wasn't paying attention. As soon as they were out the door, he looked at Craig with an irritated expression on his face, his eyes narrowed. "Yeah, that's why I didn't want to come." He could still smell the smoke from the explosion- what the hell was in that shed? It smelled like a mixture of death and gun powder.

**He waves to Sharon out of courtesy and then follows Stan out of the house. "Yeah, well my family gatherings would just kill us with boredom, so we're not going to those either," he says. After a second, he adds "Except for Easter." He makes his way to the car and pulls open his own door, sliding into his seat and starting the ignition as he waits for Stan to get seated.**

"I'm not egg hunting with you," Stan retorted loudly, even though Craig didn't mean that to be some sort of insult. Stan knew from previous years how Craig acted gathering eggs- he took out a few people in the process, bloodied some noses, blackened some eyes, left a lot of bruises in his wake. He vaguely had the memory of Craig whacking him over the head with a basket and taking some of his eggs before he ran off.

"You're an asshole during Easter," He commented in an afterthought, climbing into the car and shutting the door, buckling himself in.

**He pulls away from the house and starts back on the road back into the main part of town. "Hey, I can't let Ruby get more than me; winner gets a hundred dollars," he explains simply. It was a dumb rivalry his grandma had started when they were kids, and when Craig was deemed 'too old' he and Ruby kept the tradition going on their own, having to actually fork over the money if they lost. Craig would be damned if he lost a hundred fucking dollars to Ruby.**

"Who wins," Stan asked, wondering if Craig lost and that was why he sounded so defensive. His own easter egg hunt, he always let Shelly win. He really didn't want to get whacked on a holiday, so he always got one or two eggs whereas Shelly collected around sixty. Somehow Randy always managed to say, "Oh, good try Stan - here, you get second place, fifty dollars! First place goes to Shelly...Shelly, do you need shoes or something?' which got Stan punched anyways. He frowned as he realized that the competitiveness with him and his sister was abusive, and the one between Craig and Ruby was just fun.

"**It depends on the year. We both win sometimes; we almost tie every damn time so it's always a close call," Craig says. Even Christmas isn't that much fun anymore, because no one gives him that much because, again, 'too old.' But whatever, holidays are dumb anyway. Craig makes his own money now and he doesn't care if he gets fifty Christmas and birthday presents. It would probably be all shit he doesn't want anyways, or doesn't need.**

"I bet I could beat her," Stan commented randomly, wondering if it was appropriate. True, Ruby probably fought dirty like Craig - but if he really wanted to get into a brawl mid-easter egg hunt, he was sure he could win. That, and he was the fastest player on the team - he was known for his ability to evade being tackled, and his dash.

"We should have a fake easter egg hunt and see who wins."

"**Between the three of us?" Craig asks, trying to imagine the showdown that would ensue if they actually did it. "I'm not sure that would be a good idea; we'd probably end up destroying everything in our paths," he says, trying to add together his competitiveness with Ruby and his competitiveness with Stan. That would not be a good mix, no.**

"No, let's do it, we can have like an epic battle, and we can line up and have judges and everything," Stan said, sort of interested in the idea. He wouldn't invite his own sister, no - but he actually really wanted to do it just because it was with Ruby and Craig did have a nice sibling bond. He sort of wanted that too. He couldn't admit that to Craig, though - that'd be opening the door to other stories about the various injuries Shelly caused him, like the time she hit him with a chair.

"**Well I don't know about judges, but I guess we could try once. Why don't we just wait until next Easter? Trust me, you don't want to fight with Ruby. She's a sneaky little shit and she plays games," he warns. She always finds a way to trick Craig into losing an egg or two, and he fucking hates it. But it's fun, and he likes their rivalry. Maybe Stan would have fun too.**

"Next Easter is so far away," Stan said, sounding a bit discouraged. With a frown, he glanced towards Craig with a bit of a pout, and then gave him an intense look. "Maybe we can do it like...in August? ...Maybe?"

"**Why August?" Craig asks, looking back at Stan and noticing his pout. How cute. "It's just an Easter egg hunt, it's not that exciting. If you want to compete with Ruby, there's plenty of other shit we can do," he offers, not knowing if it's specifically the hunt that Stan is interested in or not. **

"Well, the egg hunt would be fun..." He didn't want to say, 'because I never really got to play a fair game', he just wanted to keep it as vague as possible. "I just want...well, it's fine." He turned to pout towards the window, but still in Craig's view if he turned to look at him.

"Forget it, it's stupid."

"**Stan, if you want to have an Easter egg hunt, we can have an Easter egg hunt, I'm just saying that.. well I don't know what I'm saying. We can do it, sure," he says, not sure why Stan is so set on it but wanting to make him stop fucking pouting. Craig doesn't want Stan to be upset, so if something as simple as a dumb egg hunt will make him happy, Craig can do that.**

"Okay," Stan said with a smile, but he moved his hand to cover his mouth. Did that actually work? Wow, Craig was easy to manipulate now...He felt sort of bad, but really, Craig would have been irate at the real reason Stan wanted an egg hunt - the whole being beaten up on his easter hunts, and wanting to bond with his sister.

"Thanks."

"**Yeah, don't mention it," Craig says, still not knowing why it's a big deal, but whatever. They're almost home, and they can just watch a movie or something and not die in an explosion.**


	45. 07 06 2012

07.06.2012

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **- craig

**Stan Marsh: **- craig I don't want you to be pissed but I have a question

**Craig Tucker: **- what is it?

**Stan Marsh: **- you get off in an hour

**Stan Marsh: **- and I want to have a threesome when you get home

**Stan Marsh: **- don't dump me please just humor me

**Craig Tucker: **- You want what

**Stan Marsh: **- a threesome

**Stan Marsh: **- kenny's done it kyle would do it but like i know it would be awkward with them so

**Stan Marsh: **- i found someone else who said yes

**Craig Tucker: **- Fucking who?

**Stan Marsh: **- ...you sound angry

**Craig Tucker: **- Well I'm not exactly excited, but who?

**Stan Marsh: **- Christophe

**Stan Marsh: **- dude like it'd be like fucking with a kama sutra he knows everything, craig

**Craig Tucker: **- ...why don't we just wait until I get home to talk about this

**Stan Marsh: **- but christophe wants to do it in an hour what if he backs out

**Craig Tucker: **- I'm at work, Stan, this isn't what I want to be thinking about

**Stan Marsh: **- like I don't even want to do it with anyone but you but like... ...i don't know kenny mentioned it and now I'm thinking about it a lot

**Stan Marsh: **- ...you're not getting turned on at work are you

**Craig Tucker: **- No, I'm not. But if he said yes tonight I'm sure he'll say yes some other time, so whatever, just wait until I get home

**Stan Marsh: **- okay...

**Stan Marsh: **- sorry Craig

**Craig Tucker: **- For what?

**Stan Marsh: **- for suggesting it..

**Craig Tucker: **- Stan, I don't want you to be afraid to ask me things, that's stupid, okay? You can ask me anything you want

**Stan Marsh: **- I just don't want you to be pissed at me

**Stan Marsh: **- like the sex is awesome, Craig, I'm just stupid okay

**Stan Marsh: **- forget about it

**Craig Tucker: **- If it's something you actually want, I'll... consider it, but I really don't like the idea of someone else's hands on you, let alone their dick okay

**Stan Marsh: **- well I don't like thinking about someone else's hands on you either

**Craig Tucker: **- Then why do you want something that requires a second set of hands on me?

**Stan Marsh: **- ...uh...like, I'm still possessive of you, but ...like...

**Stan Marsh: **- ...ken keeps saying how hot it is..

**Stan Marsh: **- and he doesn't mean the weather

**Craig Tucker: **- Is he really the one that brought it up?

**Stan Marsh: **- ...no

**Craig Tucker: **- ...how many people have you asked about this?

**Stan Marsh: **- ...I'm upsetting you I'm going to let you go back to work ok

**Craig Tucker: **- Stan, how many?

**Stan Marsh: **- craig seriously not that many

**Stan Marsh: **- just ...kyle, kenny, and christophe

**Stan Marsh: **- but we talk about weird shit all the time I don't even know half the time if they're serious or not ok

**Stan Marsh: **- okay I'm like

**Stan Marsh: **- going to drown myself in oreos and milk because maybe I don't want a threesome this is too weird

**Stan Marsh: **- fuck I got milk on the carpet

**Stan Marsh: **- oh my god it came out but I like, dropped the cookies on the carpet fuck

**Stan Marsh: **- i think I remember where I put the vaccuum...

**Stan Marsh: **- its good I took care of it

**Stan Marsh: **- craig, are you ok

**Stan Marsh: **- Craig I will never ask for a threesome again okay don't break up with me because I'm a horndog, please

**Craig Tucker: **- Sorry, I had to do some dishes, I'm not breaking up with you, chill out

**Stan Marsh: **- ok ...

**Stan Marsh: **- so was it a no?

**Craig Tucker: **- No?

**Stan Marsh: **- ...no threesome?

**Craig Tucker: **- I told you we can discuss that when I get home, because I don't really want to make that kind of decision over a text message while I'm at work

**Stan Marsh: **- okay

**Stan Marsh: **- you get home in like ten

**Stan Marsh: **- sorry about last night

**Stan Marsh: **- went to check on clyde

**Stan Marsh: **- thats why I was out

**Craig Tucker: **- Ugh, that's okay

**Stan Marsh: **- he like

**Stan Marsh: **- called me mom

**Craig Tucker: **- Yeah, he calls me dad sometimes

**Stan Marsh: **- what

**Stan Marsh: **- well he said he had a splinter and I get there and hes like

**Stan Marsh: **- theres no splinter i wanted a hug

**Stan Marsh: **- so i gave him a hug and tucked him in

**Stan Marsh: **- is that weird?

**Craig Tucker: **- No, he's needy like that; you learn to love it, I guess

**Stan Marsh: **- i guess

**Stan Marsh: **- it was weird, why didn't he call you

**Craig Tucker: **- I don't know, you guys went through a lot, he probably wanted you instead

**Stan Marsh: **- i hope this isn't a permenant thing

**Craig Tucker: **- Sorry, but it probably is. Clyde gets attached, he's like a child

**Stan Marsh: **- you're kidding me

**Stan Marsh: **- i am not having a child who is older than me craig

**Craig Tucker: **- No, he's like a fucking four year old

**Stan Marsh: **- i have enough shit to deal with

**Stan Marsh: **- goddamnit

**Craig Tucker: **- It's fine, but he comes over a lot for dumb shit and cries a lot and stuff

**Stan Marsh: **- and like, never stops talking

**Stan Marsh: **- like what the hell

**Stan Marsh: **- he needs an off button

**Craig Tucker: **- Yeah, but he's my best bro, so I deal with it

**Stan Marsh: **- i don't get why he has to call me mom

**Stan Marsh: **- it makes it weird

**Stan Marsh: **- like his mom died and it makes me wonder how he can even joke like that

**Craig Tucker: **- I don't know, I think it's funny, but I guess it's sad if you think too much about it

**Stan Marsh: **- well like he said I reminded him of someone when I was hugging him

**Stan Marsh: **- it was weird, craig

**Craig Tucker: **- Don't let it be weird, just let him do his thing. Trust me, if you think too much about Clyde you'll go grey

**Stan Marsh: **- too late

**Craig Tucker: **- Seriously, just let him to his Clyde thing and your life will be so much easier

**Stan Marsh: **- yeah well when do you get home

**Craig Tucker: **- Soon, I need to do some stuff now though so I can leave so I can't talk

**Stan Marsh: **- ok

* * *

**Craig finishes with wiping off a last table, his dinner shift officially over. He goes into the kitchen to toss his rag in a sink and calls "Leaving!" to his boss before heading straight for the fucking door. He hates that place. He liked it okay before he worked there, cheap Chinese food, but now he just associates it with shitty work.**

**He goes out to his car and starts the ignition, driving home. When he finally gets there, he sighs, relived to be there, even if he has to talk to Stan about fucking threesomes. Why does Stan want a threesome anyways? Craig **_**really**_** doesn't want someone else in their fucking bed. He doesn't want someone else touching Stan, he doesn't want Stan touching someone else, he doesn't want anything to do with threesomes. But if it's something Stan wants, shouldn't Craig give it a chance? Ugh, he really doesn't fucking want to, though.**

**He goes inside and makes his way up to his apartment. He shuts the door behind himself when he gets there and leans against it, even more relieved to finally be inside. He just wants to flop on their bed. "I'm here," he says, loud enough for Stan to hear wherever he is.**

A thud sounded from the direction of the bathroom, followed by an 'ompf'. With a muffled grunt, Stan appeared in the doorframe to the bathroom rubbing his head. "Sorry, I was ...uh...fixing the sink. It's like...leaking or something, I don't know." He didn't know that if they called the front desk, they'd send someone up to repair. But he really hadn't been fixing the sink, despite the wrench in his hand.

"Um...Do you want to talk about that thing, or do you want to relax for awhile. ...uh...let me get you a pop," He walked off to the kitchen and opened the fridge, and then called out, "Dr. Pepper or Root Beer?"

**Craig raises an eyebrow when Stan comes out of the bathroom, a little short on breath. "What was wrong with the sink?" he asks, making his way over to the couch. "I don't need anything to drink, just come sit with me," he adds, dropping his ass onto he cushions. "You know, if there's anything wrong in the apartment, the maintenance guy will come fix it." He's not sure if there was actually something wrong or if Stan was just lying. Where did he get a wrench, anyway? Do they have tools?**

"Uh...It's like, dripping. I don't know. I just fix stuff." He shrugged even though the other couldn't see him, but then he heard Craig say they had a maintenance man. Oh crap. Well, new excuse next time.

"So...about those texts. I'm sorry, just ignore it ok?" Grabbing two root beers, he closed the fridge and then walked over to the couch and sat almost on top of Craig, but just to the right of him. Holding out the root beer, he said casually, "So how was your day?"

**Craig drapes an arm around Stan's shoulder when he sits next to him, keeping him close. He takes the root beer but doesn't open it because he really isn't thirsty. He sighs at the topic, not really wanting to talk about it anymore it person than he had over texts. "If it's something you really want, Stan, then… I guess we can work something out, but I really don't agree with the idea. You're mine, and I don't want anyone else to have you. But I don't know… It'd have to be someone… I don't even know who I'd let in our bed. Why Christophe? I don't even know him that well."**

Turning to stare blankly at Craig, he blinked twice, before he said slowly, "Uh...No, let's just not talk about it." Truthfully, now that Craig was looking at him, talking about it, and he could see that _look_- he didn't want to think about a threesome.

"So like, work today, how annoying were people? I'm guessing a lot," He popped the root beer can and sipped it, looking ahead instead of at Craig. His face was turning slightly red. "It's so damn hot, they're probably all irritable."

**Craig sighs. Why is Stan being difficult when he's the one that wants it? If Craig is maybe willing to comply, then why doesn't Stan make it easier? "Fine, yeah, they were the same bitchy they always are," Craig says, turning his eyes to the black screen of the television instead. If Stan isn't going to talk about it, then Craig is just going to drop it, because he doesn't want it anyways.**

Stan gave a 'hum' in acknowledgement, falling silent as he turned back to the television. With his hand creeping over to rest on top of Craig's thigh, he waited for a few minutes to pass before he said with his eyes still on the screen; "Uh...well who would you want to have a threesome with?" The dreaded thought Craig might say someone like _Clyde_ popped up in Stan's head. Oh god. If he said that, Stan would never want to have a threesome. Ever.

**Craig doesn't say anything at first. There's no one he really would ever want to sleep with the two of them. He gives it some thought, though, figuring that Stan deserves at least that much. If it were going to be anyone, it should be someone they've both already fucked around with, right? And the only one Craig can think of that's been with both of them is… Kenny. Wouldn't that hurt Kenny, though? Well, Kenny should be over both of them by now… right? He still hasn't really talked with Kenny past their conversation in France. Then Craig has the passing thought to say Token, just to get Stan to not want a threesome anymore. But what if Stan says yes to that? Then Craig has to sleep with Token, and he'd have to kill Token afterwards because Stan would keep wanting it, the stupid swagged out asshole.**

"**I don't know Stan…" he says, having thought too much about it and not knowing what to make of his thoughts. "Maybe Kenny," he concedes, not knowing if he needs to provide a reason. At the prospect of sleeping with Kenny, though, he remember Kenny's tongue piercing. Damn, maybe that would be a bad idea to get into again. "…or Token," he says, giving into the idea of making Stan forget the desire for a threesome. There's no one Craig wants them to be with; just no.**

When Craig mentioned Token, Stan looked like he had swallowed mercury. With his face depleted of color, he glared at Craig, wondering why on earth he would suggest Token when he knew Stan disliked Token. For obvious reasons. With a bitter expression on his face, he looked back at his root beer can and then frowned as he got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. It wasn't that he was trying to leave, it was more like he wanted a place to hide in the same vicinity as Craig just so he could say it wasn't escapism, he just needed space. But Token? Token! Out of all the people...Craig must have known Stan wouldn't want anything to do with Token, so it would veto the threesome idea altogether. What a dick. He opened the cupboard and pulled out the pack of oreos and pulled out the tray, then shoved two oreos in his mouth; he stood at the counter with a scowl on his face.

**Craig sighs when Stan just walks away. He can't decide if it's a good thing that Stan is pissed now because it means that they won't have to threesome, or if it's a bad thing because he purposely said something he knew Stan wouldn't like just to get him to not want it. He waits, giving Stan whatever time he needs to cool off. He'd go after Stan, but somehow that just seems like he'd make it worse trying to explain, so he doesn't.**

Shoving another three oreos in his mouth, he sipped on the root beer and leaned against the counter as he chewed. With a grumpy look on his face, he stared off towards the magnets on the fridge - a Terrance and Philip one and one of Stan with Kyle, Kenny and Cartman at Cedar Point.

He finished off another three oreos before he set the package down. He heard talking next door but he really didn't give a shit what Damien did tonight. He was too pissed with Craig for mentioning Token.

"I'm going to go over to Kyle's," He said out loud, and then walked out of the kitchen and grabbed his jacket off the chair in the dining area, then headed for the door.

**Craig stands when Stan says he's leaving. "Stan, no, just relax, I was kidding, okay?" he says, trying to justify his answer in the easiest way possible. Plus he really doesn't want Stan to leave, he wants to be with Stan tonight. "I wouldn't want Token near you anyways. He has **_**ways**_**, and I don't want you to like…" he pauses, not wanting to say **_**I don't want you to like him more than me**_**. "Look, I'm immune to his stupid charm because I've been friends with him for so long, but I don't want him to work you over. If he was anywhere near our bed I'd probably kick him out."**

"Still going to Kyle's, okay? I told him I'd hang out anyways," He lied, even though it was a lot more convincing than it usually was. He was starting to feel sick hearing Craig talk about how Token had magical powers to make people like him and think he was charming. With a grimace, he twisted the door knob after undoing the latch and he looked over his shoulder. "Just...whatever. I don't want it. I'll be back in two hours."

**Craig takes Stan's arm in hand, trying to get him to stop. "I know that's bullshit because you said Christophe wanted to come over tonight. You can't be in two places at once. Now just come back inside and fucking talk to me. Don't just walk out because I mentioned Token; that was a dick move on my part, sorry," he says, trying again to get Stan to just not act like this. He really didn't mean to upset Stan over it, he just didn't want to talk about threesomes anymore. "Kenny, okay? We can try Kenny, not Token," he says, because maybe giving Stan an actual answer will pacify him. Besides… Craig likes Kenny so it might not be all that bad to share Stan with him just once.**

"I'm not walking out, I'm going to a friend's house. Stop being so possessive," Stan lectured the other as he swung the door open, leaning on it as he looked back at Craig. "I'll be back later, okay, just chill. Besides it's not like I'm going to go fuck Kyle, stop acting like I'm the one with a crush on my best friend." With that, he shut the door behind him and started off down the hallway, glowering as he stalked off.

**Craig just stares at the door, eyes narrowed and thoroughly pissed off at this point. Fine. What the fuck ever. Stan can go wherever he wants to, and make any half brained comment he fucking wants. He just turns and makes his way to the bathroom to take his shower. He's way too fucking pissed off and he doesn't even care anymore. If that's what Stan wants to think, then Stan can fucking think it.  
He takes a quick shower to get himself relaxed and then gets dressed again. He need bro time, but he really doesn't want to see Token – fuck no, not right now – and he doesn't quite feel like dealing with Clyde. That leaves one person, and he's actually a bit relieved with who it is.  
He stalks out to his car and starts to drive, and within a few minutes he's sitting back in his parents' driveway. He goes up to the door and knocks, though he's not sure why he bothers knocking.**

_After a minute, Ruby answers the door. She looks up, surprised to see Craig standing there, but steps aside to let him in anyways. "What dragged you here?" she asks, shutting the door and locking it after he's inside. She's the only one that ever remembers to lock the damn thing._

**Craig just rolls his eyes. "Shut up and go turn on the xbox. Let's kill us some motherfucking zombie Nazis."**

Stan didn't really leave - he had walked off to the nearest gas stop just to buy some candy and eat them in the parking lot. It was on the way from the apartments, and it was pretty hot - and late - so he was sitting there awhile. An hour passed as he stared off towards the swamp outside the back, sitting on a bench against the building.

Taking out his phone, he messaged Craig.

- I didn't really go to Kyle's.

**Craig follows Ruby down to her room and they get comfortable on her pair of beanbag chairs, xbox controllers in hand. They quickly get into the game, and dissolve into shit talking.**

"_Ha! Take that you fucking zombies; suck my dick," Ruby growls, having just eliminated a good five in the last few seconds._

"**Watch your fucking language," Craig scolds, picking off a few of his own. He feels his phone vibrate and braves not pausing the game to look at it. He narrows his eyes at the text, not really at its content but because he remember why he was so pissed off in the first place.**

**- Go ahead, I'm not home anyway.**

**He looks up to find his guy dead. "Ah, Ruby, what the fuck!" he says, quickly picking his controller back up and dropping his phone beside him.**

"_Pay attention to the game and I won't have to kill you next time," she says simply, collecting a few things of health. She doesn't really need them, but she takes them anyway just so Craig can't have them._

"**Fucking twat," he mutters, waiting for his guy to respawn.**

- I didn't want to go to Kyle's, I left because I was pissed. You like, have something going on with Token, don't you.

Stan pulled out his Marlboro's and his lighter, and then lit one and puffed on it with a sort of sadness floating about him. He was hunched over on the bench, and he really didn't want to think about what would happen if Craig did like Token. Just like Wendy...Token was so far above Stan in his mind, that he couldn't compete with anyone. Token had the money, the communication skills, the suaveness...he even had the looks, in Stan's mind. He glanced at the pavement forlornly as he thought more in depth of it. Maybe he should just talk to someone about what was going on...no, he really didn't want someone to tell him he was overreacting. Craig totally was into Token. Why else would he say him?

He watched his phone with some impatience, but part of him didn't want Craig to respond.

**After several minutes of trying to catch up to Ruby's score, the little shit had him beat, Craig notices his phone glowing with a reminder alert for a text. Shit, that's right, Stan was talking to him. He picks it back up and reads it, this time audibly scoffing at the message.  
- I don't have anything fucking going on with Token, we've been over this, fuck you if you think I'd cheat on you. I'm the one who should be wondering why you suddenly want a threesome because I have no idea who the fuck you have interest in. Just go to fucking Kyle's house, I'll be home eventually  
He slams his phone shut and doesn't even bother protesting when he sees his guy dead again. He just picks his controller back up and waits on the respawn.**

"_So I never got an answer as to why you're here. Why are you all broody and pissy?" Ruby asks, killing off a few zombies that were headed at Craig because she has a feeling he won't get them himself. "Not that I'm complaining, because I love kicking your ass at video games."_

**Craig just rolls his eyes at her attempts to help. Even when she was trying to be nice, she still had to be a twat about it. "It's nothing; I'm just pissed off at Stan because he's being an idiot."**

"_Well you're an idiot too," she says, rolling her eyes at Craig's excuse for being a walking ball of angry._

Stan read Craig's response, and he could feel tightening in his chest, which he thought was his heart breaking. With a sigh, he tried to berate himself mentally for being stupid and thinking Craig would cheat on anyone - of course he had the right to think Stan was doing something, because he already cheated on one person - why wouldn't he cheat on Craig? At least, logically, Stan thought that must be what Craig was thinking. He wouldn't be able to live with himself without heavy medication if he cheated on Craig. He'd probably spend the rest of his life alone if he did, because he'd think he was too much of a fuck up to find actual love.

Despite his conscious criticisms of himself, his eyes welled up with tears and he continued to smoke intensely for a few minutes, going back for quicker drags to the point he could strongly taste nicotine, like he was eating the cigarette instead of inhaling it. He pushed the button for his screen and then typed in,

- I don't have interest in anyone but you...I'm sorry Craig.

"**Yeah, whatever," Craig says, picking up his score my massacring a hoard of zombies. He's tied with Ruby now, but he knows it won't last long. He's not bad at video games, he's pretty fucking good at them, but she's just **_**better**_**, and the little brat knows it. He feels his phone vibrate in his lap but he doesn't want to answer it because he's pissed off.**

"_Oh, stop fucking moping and go kiss and make up. I'm sure it's not that bad and you're both just over reacting because you're pussies," Ruby says, not actually knowing what's going on but sure it's true. Craig is probably just being a baby about something._

"**Ugh," Craig mutters, rolling his eyes and going for his phone again. He reads the message and sighs. This is how all of their fucking arguments go. They get mad, Craig makes Stan feel bad, and then Craig has to go hug him and tell him it's okay. Something feels too patterned about that.**

**- Just forget about it. Go hang out with Kyle; I'm talking to Ruby right now**

Stan read the message, but something about it made him feel ten times worse. He hated having a self-pity party, but now he was thinking about how Craig could run to Ruby and have a sibling bonding moment when he was pissed off about something, and Stan only had Shelly who he could possibly, but really never, bond with. Moping for a few minutes with the cigarette dangling from his pursed lips, he stared at the phone screen, tapping it occasionally to keep it active.

- I'm not going to forget it, I'm an inconsiderate dickhead, I'm sorry...

- I just thought a threesome might like, be interesting...like I thought that we've done like so much that it might get boring and I didn't want you to like, leave me...

- I worry that'll happen again because Wendy left me a lot so I was trying to make things interesting

- I like, started worrying back when you wouldn't reblog that you were my penguin that it might all be a shortlived relationship

- I'm stupid...sorry...

**Craig sighs again, feeling the barrage of text messages in his lap. He already knows that Stan is upset now before he even opens his phone.  
- Fucking relax, okay? Do you want me to just come home?  
He turns to Ruby, finally pausing the game. "I'm probably going to head out," he says, feeling bad for leaving in the middle of a match, but there's not much else he can do if Stan is upset. He stands and stares at his phone, waiting to be told to leave.**

"_Yeah, go get your sad little hubby and try not to make him cry, okay?" Ruby says, rolling her eyes with a smirk planted on her lips. She likes Stan, but really, those two are just whiners. She stands and actually moves to give Craig a good buy hug. They don't hug a lot, but she can do whatever the fuck she wants. "Stay happy with him, okay? Because if he hurts you I'm going to kick his ass so fucking hard," she says, tightening her arms around his torso for a second for emphasis before letting go._

**Craig is a little surprised when Ruby stands to give him a good bye hug, but doesn't complain. He just represses his own smirk and pushes her away playfully after she threatens Stan. "Yeah, okay, you'll kick his ass, I'll let him know to watch out for little girls with pigtails."**

_She just flips him off and goes to turn off her TV, expecting him to leave. Stupid older brothers and their stupid problems._

"**See you around," he says, making for her door. He goes to sit in his car and checks his phone again, wondering if he'd missed any messages in that time.**

- No, I'm at the gas station, it's like a thirty minute walk...don't leave Ruby, have fun.

Stan stared at the message before he hit send, and then he went back to puffing on his cigarette. With a lengthy exhale, he sighed at the same time as he heard the crickets begin to chirp. With a frown on his face, he wondered if Craig would actually leave whatever he was doing at home for him. He was just whining - it wasn't unusual. He even felt bad about whining, he didn't like when he was in a down mood because it reminded him of all the times he was so cynical that his friends wanted to quit hanging out with him or quit inviting him places. He somehow managed to avoid that, but he was sinking back into that lately, without the alcohol to lift his spirits. Right now all he could think was that he wasn't good enough for Craig, and maybe Token was just out to get him because he was the world's biggest dick.

**Craig doesn't bother typing out a reply because the drive to the gas station isn't that far. He's still pissed, really pissed, because Stan has a habit of accusing Craig of absurd things and getting pissed off for no reason and expecting Craig to apologize. That's not how shit works. He pulls up to the gas station and sees Stan just sitting there. He leans over and opens the door, saying "Get in."**

Still on the bench, Stan took the cigarette out of his mouth, holding it perched perfectly between his pointer and middle finger. "No."

He shook his head for emphasis, looking towards a large patch of weeds off to the side. "I deserve to walk home, okay, I'm a fucking horrible person for accusing you of that shit. I'm the fuck up here, you actually are a decent person and I'm the one who cheated on multiple people before we were together...I'm pissed at myself for projecting that shit on you, just let me walk home in the dark, okay."

"**Stan, if you don't get in the fucking car I'm going to get out and throw you in myself," Craig says, not caring for Stan's explanation. He appreciates that Stan realizes that he's wrong, but he's still angry and he just wants to go home. He also doesn't give a shit how angry he is, because he's not letting Stan walk anywhere alone, especially in the dark.**

"I'm not going in the car, Craig, let me walk," Stan insisted, sounding extremely attached to this resolution. With a frown, he took another drag on his cigarette, and got up and started to walk off out of the parking lot to the side of the road, trekking through the gravel on the side.

**True to his word, Craig gets out of his car, slamming his door as he follows Stan. He catches up to him with his long legged walking and catches his wrist. He tugs Stan toward himself and wraps an arm around his waist, hoisting him into the air. He puts him over his shoulder, with a bit of effort, and takes him back to the car. He drops Stan into his seat, making sure not to hit his head on the car, and slams his door shut as well, before Stan can get back out. He gets back in on his side and starts the car back up. "We're going home," he says, pulling away from the gas station.**

When he heard the car door open, he figured Craig would probably talk to him instead of hoist him up. Since that obviously didn't happen, he was startled when the other grabbed him and threw him over his shoulder. With a disgruntled look on his face, he narrowed his eyes as he dropped his cigarette on the gravel and tried hitting Craig's back, not with force but just out of annoyance. "Put me down, Craig," He whined as he squirmed, trying to move his legs to roll off the other's shoulders. "Goddamnit, Craig!"

As he was forced into the car, he glared at Craig with tears still in his eyes and he stared at him as he slammed his door shut in his face. Now he was just pissed, how dare he haul him off like that in front of people. Even if there weren't that many people at the gas station right now, that was goddamn embarrassing.

Even though the car was rolling away from the gas station, Stan opened his door and then looked at Craig. "I'm jumping out and walking, goddamnit!"

"**God fucking damnit Stan, stay in the fucking car. What the Hell is your problem tonight? What do you want from me?" Craig asks, shooting Stan a dangerous look for opening the door. He doesn't even know what he'll do it Stan actually jumps out. Craig doesn't think he's ever been this mad at Stan before.**

"I want you to let me be a self-hating, masochistic person just for one fucking night and I want you to tell me to get out of the fucking car and walk the way home, okay? Just tell me to get out and walk because I've been a fucking asshole, and every time you let me get away with it, okay? I delete all your fucking music, which is your personal property and it is illegal, so you hug me in the fucking road! I say something fucking awful, you come and pick me up and are nice, fuck, Craig - I don't want to walk all over you, I want you to tell me off. I don't want to make you miserable. I'm getting out of this fucking car, you're driving home, and I'll be there in thirty minutes."

He opened the door and jumps out, stumbling and rolling on the ground when he hit it. It wasn't going that fast, so he didn't hurt anything. Maybe a bruise or two later. Goddamnit, he was so furious with himself, he just wanted to stay on the ground and curl up and hate himself for a week.

**Craig slams his breaks when Stan actually fucking flings himself from the car. He shuts the car off and stomps his way over to Stan, completely fucking furious. He reaches down and grips in Stan's hair, forcing him to look up at Craig. "Stan, I'm not going to fucking explode at every mistake you fucking make. I love you, so I forgive you, that's how things fucking work. Yeah, okay, you were fucking wrong for accusing me of wanting to sleep with Token, and you fucking apologized and I'm getting over it, okay? You don't fucking walk on me; I give you things because I want to. So just shut the fuck up and come the fuck home with me before you piss me off more," he rants. He glares down at Stan for even acting so dramatic, and tugs on his hair a bit to get him to stand up. "Come on," he says. He feels like he just scolded Stan or something, which is weird, but Stan needs it apparently.**

"Ow, goddamnit," Stan whimpered, his eyes tearing up and visibly flinching at Craig yanking on his hair. He stared at the other with a frown, his eyes misting over as he tried to keep the tears back. Craig was pretty much right - he was walking on him again, and here he thought it would actually be a punishment. Wincing as the other yanked him to his feet by pulling again on his hair, he stood up and put his hands on his head, rubbing it with one hand and removing Craig's hand with the other. He bowed his head and walked back to the car, sulking his way into the seat and not bothering to fasten the seatbelt as he sunk down.

**Craig goes back to the car when Stan does and starts it again. He's glad that no one stole his car when he realizes that he left his keys in the ignition in his haste. He jut wallows in the silence and begins to drive home. He can't even comprehend if he's more upset that Stan just threw himself out of a moving car or angry with the Token thing still. Either way, he doesn't know how much he'll be talking for the rest of the night.**

When they arrive back at the apartment, Stan opens the car door and takes off into the building without waiting for Craig. From how Craig yanked on his hair, his heart was still pounding - all he could remember was Clyde and that goddamn Peter Phile guy, how Clyde was yanked back by his hair, how he tried reaching out for him...His head hurt just thinking about it.

Getting inside, he left the door unlocked and went right into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, he grabbed the carton of milk without a lid, and then reached in the cupboard and took out the oreos. He went to the table and sat down stiffly, staring off at the label on the carton instead of focusing on anything else, trying to ignore how horrible he felt remembering what happened. Maybe he should call his therapist...he thought of taking out his phone, but he couldn't move. Instead, he sat there with the oreos under one hand, the milk carton in the other, staring at it.

**Craig is confused when Stan just leaves the car without saying anything and heads inside. He follows Stan up and finds him sitting at the table, eating oreos. What's with Stan and the oreos today? "Are you okay?" he asks, shutting the door behind himself and sitting at the table across from Stan.**

Stan doesn't respond for awhile, even though his hand contorted, gripping the package of oreos. After time had passed, he looked up at Craig and said, "Huh, what?" He blinked, looking down at the milk and cookies. With one hand, he picked up a cookie and bit into it, and then looked at Craig. With a frown, he said with his mouth full, "I was just thinking about stuff, I'm fine."

**Craig frowns worriedly. This isn't the same upset Stan had been before. This is a bad kind of upset. He stands and goes over to stand next to Stan, wrapping his arms around Stan's shoulders in a hug. "Whatever it is, it's okay," he says. With a sigh, he adds, "I love you Stan, just… lets do something normal like watch a movie or go lay in bed or something, okay?" he asks. He doesn't want to see Stan this way; it reminds him of when Stan first came back from… no, what if Stan is upset about that fucking Peter guy? He just hugs Stan tighter, hoping that's not it.**

A chill went through him as Craig wrapped his arms around him, and he made a slight croaking noise as he tried pushing the other off. "No...just don't hug right now, okay...Give me five minutes," he whispered, trying to go back for the cookies he had abandoned. His eyes were half lidded as he tried to brush the feeling off - he just didn't want to think of that when Craig was near him. He didn't want to connect Craig with that Peter guy at all. And if he hugged him now...what if those feels stuck to his thoughts of Craig? That would be terrible.

"Later...just, five minutes, I need quiet, okay..."

**Craig backs off when Stan asks him to. Maybe that is what Stan is upset about, because otherwise a hug should have been a good thing. "I'll just, uh, be on the couch then," he says. He tries to make it sound normal, because he doesn't want Stan to think he's hurt by the fact that he doesn't want Craig's hugs. If space is what Stan needs, then Craig can give him space.**

After a few oreos, Stan closes the package, and drinks right out of the milk carton. With a dazed pause, he realized he had been sinking back into the memory of that place again. Was that why he was going for the packaged food? Something hidden? In jugs? He still remembered how he had pushed it under the bed, he thought he was going to starve again. It was traumatizing the first time, when he actually knew how long he'd be without. And that had been with Craig. ...god, was he going to get into these situations with _all_ of Craig's group?

Now that his mind had calmed itself, he pushed away from the chair and walked over to Craig to sit next to him. Draping his arms lazily over the other's form, he closed his eyes and hugged his neck with a sigh.

"Sorry."

**Craig leans into Stan, not wanting to wrap his arms around him in case Stan still didn't want him to. "It's okay, you're going to need space, it's fine," he says. He turns his face toward Stan to make sure he's okay. He wants to touch him or kiss him or something, but he doesn't want to upset Stan. "Are you okay?" he asks, not that Stan has had some time to relax.**

"Yeah..." He said quietly, cuddling up to Craig. He was assuming the other would put his arm around him, but when he didn't, he reached down and pulled Craig's arm up to put it over his shoulders himself. "Just...it was...I don't know. I don't want to talk about it...and I'm really sorry about the whole...ugh."

**Craig pulls Stan into himself when Stan puts his arm around Stan's shoulders. "It's fine, just… try to think about what you're going to say before you accuse me of things. But don't be sorry for asking for something that you want, even if I might not want to give it to you, okay? What you want is just as important as what I want," he says. He hugs Stan tight to his chest, hoping that Stan understands the difference in why he was angry and why he wasn't.**

"I don't really want it, okay..." He said as he let Craig hug him tightly, smiling as the other did so. He was kind of happy he wasn't being rough like he had been on the side of the road...that side of Craig he didn't like seeing. ...well, that wasn't true. He didn't like seeing that side when they weren't in the bedroom. In the bedroom was a different story.

"I love you," He mumbled, turning to bury his face in the others shirt.

**Craig presses his lips to the top of Stan's head and just holds him there. "I love you too," he says into Stan's hair. He closes his eyes and just enjoys Stan being in his arms. At least Stan is home now, and not out wandering the streets on his own like he'd wanted. No, he's right where he damn well should be; with Craig.**


	46. 07 08 2012

**07.08.2012 **(Okay so it has come to my attention that some of you believe that I wrote this entire story by myself. Just so you know, that is**_ not_** the case. This is a roleplay, in which I play Craig. The part of Stan is played by senselessescapadesftw on tumblr. And we are not alone; we are a part of the RP group HFWTRP on tumblr, and we have several other members. I don't know how someone would NOT know that this is an RP if they've been paying any attention at all, but this is just me reminding you because it is very important to me that my Stan gets the credit that she deserves. I just hope that everyone understands now, and that people even read these author's notes because I've stated this before and people STILL don't know. On that note, if you'd like more information on our group, please contact me either here or on tumblr and I will gladly tell you all about it. We even have a mass of open characters if anyone is interested in joining us. But yes, the point of this rant of mine is that**_ I do not write Stan_**. So now that I've said it again, please enjoy this chapter~ There's a surprise coming next chapter for those of you that don't follow our tumblrs. ;D)

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **hey craig

**Craig Tucker: **...what?

**Stan Marsh: **...I'm saying hi

**Craig Tucker: **From the living room?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Craig Tucker: **Why can't you just come talk to me?

**Stan Marsh: **you're all the way in the bedroom

**Stan Marsh: **and my oreos are here

**Craig Tucker: **well you could bring your oreos in here

**Craig Tucker: **or go "hey craig, come out here"

**Stan Marsh: **and that involves moving

**Stan Marsh: **but I want to do tumblr

**Stan Marsh: **and if you're out here I'll just want to hug you and that's not productive tumblring

**Craig Tucker: **well what do you want then?

**Stan Marsh: **to say hi

**Stan Marsh: **god you make life hard

**Craig Tucker: **Can I just come in the living room?

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **tumbling

**Craig Tucker: **how is this not as distracting as a hug would be?

**Stan Marsh: **have you ever tried hugging and typing

**Stan Marsh: **its impossible

**Stan Marsh: **25 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_lt8n39BVPd1qj1at9o1_500 dot jpg

**Craig Tucker: **well

**Craig Tucker: **I'm kinda tired

**Craig Tucker: **we could just lay there

**Craig Tucker: **and you could type

**Stan Marsh: **no because then I will want to hug you

**Stan Marsh: **gdi craig

**Craig Tucker: **I'm coming out there

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **i'll move to the bathroom

**Stan Marsh: **don't make me tumblr in the bathroom, craig

**Craig Tucker: **The bathroom doesn't even lock

**Craig Tucker: **I can go in there too

**Stan Marsh: **gdi

**Stan Marsh: **I need alone time dude

**Craig Tucker: **then why are you iming me...?

**Stan Marsh: **because I want to

**Craig Tucker: **You make absolutely no sense

**Craig Tucker: **but okay

**Craig Tucker: **so how is your tumbling going

**Stan Marsh: **good

**Stan Marsh: **what are you doing

**Craig Tucker: **playing happy wheels

**Stan Marsh: **fun

**Craig Tucker: **eh, kinda

**Craig Tucker: **I'm just bored because there's nothing to do

**Craig Tucker: **Today is so boring, that even _I'm_ bored

**Stan Marsh: **thought you liked boring

**Craig Tucker: **Well today it's deafening

**Stan Marsh: **24 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m6v2xjuelB1raydlgo1_500 dot png

**Craig Tucker: **what's that?

**Stan Marsh: **idk

**Stan Marsh: **it was on the tag I was looking at

**Craig Tucker: **which tag?

**Stan Marsh: **...the yaoi tag?

**Craig Tucker: **not going to ask

**Stan Marsh: **probably best not to

**Craig Tucker: **Well

**Craig Tucker: **You could always make your own yaoi, you know

**Craig Tucker: **Live action

**Stan Marsh: **yeah?

**Craig Tucker: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **24 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m6sy90nQkv1rz7k0oo1_500 dot jpg ?

**Craig Tucker: **...was that a hint?

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **not at all

**Craig Tucker: **do you still want a threesome?

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Craig Tucker: **because that's what that just came off as

**Stan Marsh: **it's just anime, god

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want a threesome

**Craig Tucker: **I was just asking

**Craig Tucker: **because we never really resolved that conversation properly anyway

**Craig Tucker: **so anyway, yeah, happy wheels

**Stan Marsh: **24 dot media dot tumblr dot com/tumblr_m6i2icrwLJ1qbz0o7o1_500 dot png

**Stan Marsh: **there

**Stan Marsh: **you happy

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not mad, I was just asking

**Stan Marsh: **do you jack it anymore?

**Craig Tucker: **why would I do that?

**Stan Marsh: **...you don't?

**Craig Tucker: **stan, we live together, if I want to get off I can just ask

**Craig Tucker: **I mean if you were gone for a week or soemthing, yeah, I'm probably do it myself

**Stan Marsh: **...oh my god

**Stan Marsh: **I've been jacking it like 4 times a day, does that make me a bad boyfriend

**Craig Tucker: **what?

**Craig Tucker: **you do it that often?

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah I thought it was normal

**Craig Tucker: **why dont' you just ask me?

**Stan Marsh: **well it's when you're at work

**Stan Marsh: **or asleep

**Stan Marsh: **or when you're in the bathroom

**Craig Tucker: **well obviously that's not something I do at work or while asleep

**Craig Tucker: **but you could wake me up

**Stan Marsh: **well four during the day, like, 3 times at night?

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **that's ridiculous

**Craig Tucker: **you're that horny all the time, and we're sitting here iming each other

**Craig Tucker: **what is wrong with this picture

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not right now

**Craig Tucker: **then why exactly are you in the yaoi tag?

**Stan Marsh: **...because I look at positions?

**Stan Marsh: **hey, what do you want for dinner

**Craig Tucker: **Well now I kinda want dick, sitting here thinking about you fucking touching yourself all day while I'm gone at work, so I don't really care, you can pick what we eat

**Stan Marsh: **okay, well I have bratwursts in the fridge so I guess we could have those

**Craig Tucker: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **...did you want sex right now?

**Craig Tucker: **Not if you don't want it, no

**Stan Marsh: **...well if you want it, I want it

**Stan Marsh: **but I'm fucking starving so if we do it can I like, eat stuff off of you or something

**Craig Tucker: **you can eat anything you fucking want to off me

**Stan Marsh: **okay, I can use the yogurt or something

**Craig Tucker: **or you can just eat and then come back to bed

**Stan Marsh: **wait

**Stan Marsh: **you're in bed

**Stan Marsh: **like, right now

**Stan Marsh: **how can you be in bed and NOT jack it

**Craig Tucker: **because I can?

**Craig Tucker: **It's called self control

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **you're confusing me

**Craig Tucker: **well every time I sit in bed, I'm not going to wank just because it's a bed

**Craig Tucker: **but I don't know

**Craig Tucker: **something about the fact that you can't wait for me to come home from work so you have to jack one off is kinda

**Craig Tucker: **alluring? is that the word

**Stan Marsh: **you getting home takes for fucking ever

**Craig Tucker: **do you really want me that bad all day?

**Craig Tucker: **I only work doubles some of the time, so normally I'm only gone for a few hours

**Craig Tucker: **that should be that hard to wait

**Stan Marsh: **even four fucking hours is too goddamn long

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know how you don't jack it anymore

**Stan Marsh: **how is your hand even functional

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know why it's a problem for you if I don't do it

**Craig Tucker: **it just means I'm all the more deprived by the time I get to you

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **so you're horny right now?

**Craig Tucker: **A little

**Craig Tucker: **I could use more of a push, but you're going to eat first anyways so whatever

**Stan Marsh: **Push?

**Stan Marsh: **...like viagra?

**Craig Tucker: **...no, what the fuck

**Craig Tucker: **like my boyfriend climbing on top of me naked

**Stan Marsh: **what about picturing me naked

**Stan Marsh: **hogtied

**Craig Tucker: **this really isn't what we should be talking about if you want alone time

**Stan Marsh: **why not

**Craig Tucker: **because unless you want me to come out there, you should stop

**Stan Marsh: **wonder how many different positions we could do with that

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, try counting

**Stan Marsh: **hmm

**Stan Marsh: **I don't think its good to count

**Stan Marsh: **because I just want you inside me then

**Stan Marsh: **and omg a recipe for teriyaki steak..fuck, we're too poor for steak

**Craig Tucker: **didn't your dad just give you $500?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah but shouldn't we like...save that

**Stan Marsh: **i don't know

**Craig Tucker: **well money isn't worth anything if it just sits there, or so I'm told

**Craig Tucker: **I still have money saved, you'd fine to spend it

**Craig Tucker: **especially if you're just buying food

**Stan Marsh: **if we had sex and steak after, I'd be so happy

**Stan Marsh: **yeah but that takes time to go to the store too so fuck that

**Stan Marsh: **its too hot out

**Craig Tucker: **then eat the fucking raviolis in the cupboard or something

**Stan Marsh: **you sound angry

**Stan Marsh: **does my needing substance bother you

**Craig Tucker: **no, I'm not angry, I'm just trying to help out

**Stan Marsh: **you added fucking in there

**Stan Marsh: **that means you're angry

**Stan Marsh: **ugh the walk to the kitchen is so far

**Stan Marsh: **and I have oreos

**Craig Tucker: **no it doesn't

**Craig Tucker: **I can say fuck whenever I want to

**Craig Tucker: **do you want me to make the raviolis?

**Stan Marsh: **no, I can

**Stan Marsh: **I don't really want raviolis

**Craig Tucker: **then eat something else

**Stan Marsh: **like...whipped cream

**Craig Tucker: **that won't fill you up

**Stan Marsh: **yeah but you will

**Craig Tucker: **...that's true

**Stan Marsh: **yep

**Craig Tucker: **so get some

**Stan Marsh: **hmmm, I don't know...

**Stan Marsh: **if you think it's a bad idea

**Craig Tucker: **why is it a bad idea?

**Stan Marsh: **idk, maybe I should go with the raviolis

**Craig Tucker: **eat whatever you want but if you don't fucking decide soon I'm going to come and feed you something else

**Stan Marsh: **what're you going to feed me?

**Craig Tucker: **take a guess

**Stan Marsh: **...ravioli?

**Craig Tucker: **sure, go eat that.

**Stan Marsh: **naw

**Craig Tucker: **I'm going to sign off aim

**Craig Tucker: **okay?

**Stan Marsh: **why?

**Craig Tucker: **because you're being a fucking tease and you know it so I'm going to lock the door and take care of myself while you eat

**Stan Marsh: **...dude

**Craig Tucker: **what

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Craig Tucker: **why not?

**Stan Marsh: **that's unfair

**Craig Tucker: **how?

**Stan Marsh: **I'm home

**Stan Marsh: **and awake

**Stan Marsh: **and not in the bathroom

**Stan Marsh: **and you're jacking it behind a **locked door**

**Stan Marsh: **that's like

**Stan Marsh: **that's just mean

**Craig Tucker: **well I'm not getting any the longer I just sit here and talk about it

**Craig Tucker: **so just go eat

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **I'll just come in there

**Craig Tucker: **It's fine, continue to ponder your dinner

**Stan Marsh: **No, I'm coming

**Craig Tucker: **No eat, you're hungry

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **too late

* * *

Stan removes himself from the desk set up in the living room and ambles over to the door, trying it - discovering it was unlocked still. However, before he pushed, he decided he wanted to go get some whipped cream, so he abandoned the door knob and walked off to the kitchen instead, opening the fridge.

**Craig stares at the AIM screen for a moment, considering whether or not he should actually lock the door, just to see what Stan will do. He hears Stan's hand on the door knob and curses internally at his missed opportunity to mess with the other. When he hears Stan move away, he's confused, but not about to miss another opportunity. He shuts his laptop and sets it aside, so it won't get broken in the crossfire of whatever is about to happen. He makes his way over to the door, but his fingers pause over the lock. No, he has a much better idea than simply locking Stan out. He drops himself on his ass in front of the door and leans back against it, his dead weight will be sure to keep Stan at bay, even while the handle still moves. He starts to unzip his pants, waiting for Stan's return.**

Stan picks up the whipped cream, and for some reason, his eyes dwell on the label. Reading the calories as he walked lazily back over to the door, he put his hand on it almost absentmindedly and tried twisting the knob. Pushing inwards and finding it stuck, he tried it again before narrowing his eyes. "...Craig?" He asked, not bothering to hide the suspicious undertone to his voice as he tried to push in again. Yes, something was definitely keeping the door shut.

"...Craig, is something wrong with the door," He ordered more than asked, a bit pissed off as he tried pushing inwards again. "It's stuck."

**Craig doesn't move, and doesn't respond to Stan's demanding inquiries. No, instead he lets himself out of his jeans and takes himself in hand. He gasps audibly at the feel of his own touch, and says, "I'll be extra vocal so you can hear me, okay Stan?" he says, knowing that Stan is just on the other side of the door, and that he'll hear everything. He slowly drags his fingertips up his shaft and leans heavily against the door. "Mmm, Stan, I'm imagining you touching me," he says. He wraps his fingers completely around himself and begins to pump steadily. "A-ahh… Stannn," he says breathily, emphasizing his words, making them purposefully sexual. "Mm, yeah, your lips always feel so nice. I love when you flick your tongue **_**just right**_**. Stan, nghh, I can almost **_**feel**_** you." He's tempted to smirk at his moaned out words, but his hand on his dick still feels good, despite the fact that he's just messing with Stan.**

"Craig?" Stan questioned, his voice going up a decibel as he heard Craig explain how he was going to be loud as he did something. ...did...what? What was that gasp for? ...no. No.

"Craig, open the door," He demanded harshly, dropping the container on the floor as he reached up and pounded on the wood. "Damnit, Craig, open it." When Craig began to audibly explain how pleased he was, Stan kicked the door roughly, and then backed up and tried elbowing it open. Instead of actually doing any good, he just made a visible dent in the door. "**Craig**! Open the fucking door!"

_Oh my god he's such a fucking dick, I can't believe he's jacking it right when I'm here and I had the cool whip and I was walking towards the door and he locked it or blocked it or something..._Stan was extremely upset, and he let out a shakey exhale as he looked towards the window in the living room. Maybe if he climbed out, he could climb to the bedroom...no, that was too dangerous. Was there even a ledge? He walked over, and then slid the window open as he heard Craig say he could almost feel him. That fucking dick.

"Fucking bastard son of a bitch," He muttered as he peered out, realizing there was a ledge - it was thin, but it existed. It looked really shabby though...He put one leg out on the ledge, and then the other. Fucking asshole shutting the fucking door and then fucking putting his hand on his own dick when his boyfriend was on the other fucking side...he was so furious he was thinking of hogtying Craig.

"W-whoa." He said as he flattened his back to the building, realizing how far up they were. Four stories...that's a long fucking ways. And it seemed easier in his head when he was back in the window.

"Now I'm going to die listening to him masturbating, fuck Craig Tucker, fuck him with a fucking baseball bat on fire," Stan muttered angrily, edging along the ledge.

**Craig's body jerks a bit with Stan's pounding on the door, but he doesn't relent. No, not yet, just a few more minutes, then I'll let Stan in the doo. When he notices that he can no longer hear Stan, he assumes that he must have walked away, so he gets a little louder. "**_**Nnah**_**, **nn**, Stan, I want to be inside you; feel your hot, tight walls clamping down around me. Ramming into you, driving you into the mattress..." His hips jerk at the actual thought, and he's almost pissed that his words are affecting him, even though they were meant for Stan. "Fuck," he mutters, having to remove his hand from himself. Maybe now would be a good time to let Stan in… But he's going to sit there for a moment and let himself cool off. He slouches against the door, trying to catch his slightly labored breathing, his cock achingly hard.**

A few steps over, now successfully placing himself between the two windows - Stan realized he was deathly afraid of heights. His body stiffened as he pressed himself against the bricks of the building, his eyes wide. "O-Oh my god." He said as he looked down, seeing the parking lot below him. Oh god. Oh god oh god...Taking in a deep breath, he slowly edged a little bit over, and then found himself within reach of the window. With one hand, he fumbled agaisnt the window pane, realizing it was shut and unmovable. "Nooo, what," He said, not logically connecting that neither of them ever opened that window anyways. With a frustrated cry, he yelled, "OPEN THE WINDOW, OPEN THE WINDOW, OH MY GOD OPEN THE WINDOW OR I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!"

**Craig hears Stan's voice, but… it's not from the door, it's from… the window. **_**The motherfucking window**_**. "Stan?" he asks loudly, standing and scrambling over to the window. He looks out, and he can see Stan's side. "What the fuck!" he all but shouts, ripping the locks unlocked and throwing the window open. He reaches out and grabs for Stan's arm, helping him toward the window and keeping a death grip on him so as not to let him fall. "Stan what the fuck!" he repeats, helping him securely back into their room before collapsing under Stan's fall from the window. He's breathing heavily again, but it's more from the adrenaline scare that Stan was fucking four stories high on a ledge.**

Flailing slightly after Craig grabbed his arm, Stan panicked as he tried to regain his balance. Unable to, he dove for the window and gripped the ledge, then propelled himself inside onto Craig. Not wasting any time, he pushed himself into a sitting position, now straddling the other as Craig laid on his back. His hands clenched around the shoulders of Craig's shirt as he yanked him upwards and shook him as he yelled, "WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU LOCK A DOOR WHEN I'M ON THE OTHER SIDE AND I WENT TO GET COOL WHIP! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?" He breathed heavily as he took a moment from shaking Craig, his hair ruffled and his eyes slightly wild from being scared out of his wits. His jaw was clenched tight as he waited for an answer, even though he felt like smacking Craig upside his head.

**Craig doesn't even protest when Stan pulls him up and shakes him. No, his nerves are too wracked form seeing Stan outside the window. "I was going to open the door after a fucking minute; I didn't know you'd climb out the fucking window just to sleep with me!" he says, a mite frantic still. His brain is calming, though, with Stan's full weight resting on him. It's a good reminder that Stan is right here and not falling four stories to his potential death. "Fucking Hell, Stan, what if you would have fallen?" he asks, his brows furrowed with worry. He reaches forward and grabs Stan by his own collar, jerking him into a hard, kind of frantic, thankful kiss. Fucking thank God Stan didn't fall.**

Stan was startled that his screaming ended up with them connecting their lips; and in his anger, he shoved Craig against the hardwood floor. "No, dude!" He yelled as he kept his fists balled as he grasped the other's shirt, "No! I'm not kissing you right now, I'm too fucking pissed at you, I can't believe you would lock a fucking door when I'm like, right fucking there, and then do that to me! You fucking asshole! Maybe if I had fallen four fucking stories you wouldn't be a huge raging dick!" He pulled him up and shoved him against the floor for good measure before he got up and walked over to the bed, and then flopped down on his side and heaved a really angry huff.

"Fuck you Tucker." He muttered under his breath. Really, the most depressing thought crept into his mind; the only person he wanted to be near right now was Craig, and he wanted a hug from him - but he also was the one he was pissed at. The sad irony of it made him groan and he reached up and grabbed a pillow, then chucked it at a wall before he put his hands over his head.

**Craig cringes as his back hits the floor, but he doesn't take any real offence to it until Stan leaves him. And he frowns deeply when Stan calls him **_**Tucker**_**. Tucker? Fucking Fine; Stan can sleep on his own. "Sorry for fucking kidding around with you **_**Marsh**_**," he says, his words teeming with his irk, and his hurt at his boyfriend not even being able to call him by name, "I'll be leaving you the fuck alone then, since I'm the one that forced you to climb out the window." He quickly zips his pants back up and stands to leave the room, all but slamming the door on his way out. He sees the broken open container of whipped cream and doesn't bother to stop and clean it up. No, fucking Stan can clean it up. What the Hell kind of over reaction was crawling out the fucking window! He's not sure why, but in his stomping rage, he finds himself sitting on the floor in the kitchen, with his back pressed up against one of the lower cabinets. He drops his head between his knees and laces his fingers together behind his neck. Why, exactly, hasn't he given up on trying to do things yet? The things Craig tries to do, big or small, always, without fail, blow up in his face. He can't even **_**joke**_**.**

"That wasn't fucking kidding around, that was fucking cruel," Stan yelled from the bed, but it was probably muffled because he was face down in the blankets. He waited a few minutes, trying to mute his anger with passing time but he found it only made him more pissed off now that Craig called him Marsh. Even if he had said Tucker, he was his fucking Tucker, and Craig just made his last name sound like a dirty word. Pushing himself off the bed, he walked out to the living room, and saw the mess on the floor. Well, at least it hadn't melted yet...

Letting himself get distracted with cleaning, he decided to walk over to the kitchen to get a towel. Then he saw Craig with his head between his knees, hands on his head. "Craig?" He questioned as he knelt down next to the other, leaning over to try and look at his face instead of moving his hands. With his head tilted, he peeked at the other's face and reached up to brush his bangs away so he could see his eyes. "You okay?"

**Craig doesn't even bother moving when Stan tries talking to him. His eyes are closed anyway, so he doesn't care what Stan is doing. His voice is quieter than normal, and lacks any kind of conviction. "No, fuck off, I'm fine," he says, not even realizing that he just contradicted himself within five words. "Everything is always on me, I make it happen, and then I can't fix it because I just, can't ever do anything and, just go back to bed or whatever you were doing; I'm just going to sit here." The word **_**Tucker**_** keeps repeating in his head, and it's only making it worse. Did he really fuck up that bad just now? He thought it would be fun; tease for a minute and then let him in and romp on the bed… Is his judgment really that fucking impaired? Suddenly everything is clicking where he could have prevented any of the disasters that have happened; taking away Stan's alcohol, asking him where he was going on his own, not locking him out… What the fuck.**

Stan held his hand against the other's forehead, a sad frown on his face. Running his hand through Craig's hair, he sinks down to sit next to him by the pantry, his arm falling around his shoulders. "I shouldn't have said that, Craig, I'm sorry...It's not your fault, it's mine, I'm the dumbass," He gave the other's shoulder a comforting squeeze, and then leaned his head against Craig's other shoulder. "I love you, I just...I always mess things up...I'm a selfish bastard, Craig, please don't hate me...we can go, like...fuck for an hour, okay."

**Craig just lets Stan do what he wants, continuing to stare at the insides of his eyelids. "I don't want to right now…" he says. The dull pain from his neck being craned the wrong way for too long is starting to get to him, but he doesn't care. Not that much, anyway. He doesn't really care about anything except for the fact that he could have prevented everything. All this shit that's happened, all the pain, all the bad. He probably could have stopped all of it, if it wasn't his fault to begin with. He vaguely realizes that saying he doesn't want to fuck is probably going to hurt Stan, but he doesn't really register the fact because Stan is pissed, right? He shouldn't want to fuck anyway; he shoved Craig against the floor when he tried kissing him to make it better. But he can't make it better. He can't make any of it better. His legs involuntarily curl in closer to his body, but he remains in his sit.**

Sensing a general sadness radiating off of the other, Stan doesn't bother fighting the fact that Craig doesn't want to do it. With his eyes closed as well, he continued to lean on the other. But when the other pulled his legs in further, he frowned, and then his eyes opened and he pulled himself upright so he could see what Craig was doing, and how he looked. So extremely...depressed. Stan wasn't used to being the one comforting someone who was sad; he was used to being comforted. But he and Craig were similar in that aspect; both needed support from their group of friends, they usually were the ones who were the most pessimistic, and they fought before they actually thought things through. Acting before thinking, all the time.

With a sigh, he massaged Craig's shoulder with his hand as he leaned his head back down.

"So I've written like...three song lyrics about you, and like eight poems, and they're all jammed in my short story journals...because I figured it would be less embarrassing for you to find my shitty writing than a shitty love poem or song."

**Craig continues to wallow in his… what is this, even? Stress? Maybe everything is just finally catching up to him. He kind of feels like just sitting there and crying, if he's being honest, but he's not going to do that. No, not this kind of cry, not while Stan is sitting there. This he could just sit on his own for, cry it out, and be done.**

**He's brought from his slowly circling depressive thoughts as Stan begins talking again. It's mindless, and something positive, and it draws what little bit of interest he has left at the moment. Stan wrote love poems? Oh yeah, he never showed those to Craig, did he? "Yeah?" he asks, still not moving from his… he was probably in a pathetic fucking ball, but he couldn't really tell. He just wanted to be as close to himself as possible.**

With his arm still tight around his shoulders, Stan moved his other hand to move Craig's hand from its position behind the other's head; then he interlocked their fingers together. With a circular rubbing motion, he moved his thumb on the other's palm.

"Yeah, did you want me to show you now? They're somewhere under the bed. I think...Like I don't just jack off all day while you're gone, I sit there and write you stuff. It's stupid. But you like me, so I figure you might like stupid stuff too if you like stupid people."

"**Uh… sure," is all Craig is able to come up with. It's not that he doesn't want to hear them, he's just… so… out of it in the moment. Maybe hearing something good will make him feel good, though, who knows. He feels Stan's thumb rubbing against his hand, and it's comforting on a level. Even if Craig is apparently a complete fuck up and causes all this fighting, Stan still feels the need to sit there and deal with his emo ball. That must mean Stan cares anyway, right? That Stan loves him still. Even past calling him Tucker.**

Reluctantly after a minute had passed, Stan finally pulled himself up to his feet and walked off into the apartment. He was gone for a few minutes, and when he did appear out of the bedroom, he was flipping wildly through his journal, and a few things fell out on the floor. He sat down on the tile in front of Craig, cross legged as he flipped through the pages. Finding a piece of computer paper folded up inside, he unfolded it and glanced at it for a moment before he said, "Here's one. I swear to god if you laugh I'm going to kick you in the balls, so don't you dare." He glared at the other as he held out the slightly creased paper.

.

**Craig waits as Stan goes to fetch his notebook. When Stan comes back, it takes him a second to actually uncurl himself enough to take the paper from Stan. He'd expected Stan to just read it to him, but when he sees it he understands why Stan didn't read it. It takes him a moment to understand what the hell is even going on in the poem though. He's not really a poem person, but he figures it out after a minute. He notices the **_**I love your stupid face**_** scrawled through the middle and he makes an involuntary sharp exhale as he smiled stupidly. It wasn't a laugh – well it was, but it was a happy laugh. "You're cute," he says quietly, his eyes falling most of the way shut as he stares at the paper still in his hands.**

"_Ughhhhhhhhhh_, you laughed," Stan moaned bitterly as he flipped through the journal, not yet deterred. At least he didn't like, fall over on the floor laughing like Bebe did when she found his poems to Wendy. That would be discouragement- this was just...well, it was discouraging, but he wanted Craig to smile again.

He found another square further in the notebook, and pulled it out. Oh god. This was one he had written awhile ago, and he felt like he needed to explain it when he handed it to the other to read. "This was before we were, like...together. If you need a time frame, like a week after the locker room? I don't remember dates."

His eyes were narrowed as he watched for Craig's reaction.

.

**Craig takes the second one and holds it on top of the first one. This one is easier to read, and he finds that it actually runs together in a sentence. After reading it over a few times, he thinks about it. Stan said… it was that early on? Stan felt that strongly all the way back then? And… Stan is sorry about ruining things with Kenny?**

**The concept of this poem rolls around through Craig's head for a moment before he has to stop thinking about it and set it down on the floor. He lets himself slouch over and falls to his side, landing softly in Stan's lap. "I'm sorry," he says, not really sure what he's apologizing for. Maybe he's apologizing for being so shitty, or not preventing everything that's happened; or maybe he's just sorry for being dumb right now. "I love you," he says, winding his arms around Stan's middle and bringing his face closer to Stan's abdomen with the pull.**

Stan was startled by Craig's reaction, even though he had attentively been waiting for some sort of response. Somehow, he was expecting something more along the lines of 'LOL STAN WHAT IS THIS SHIT OMG YOU **ARE** A GIRL', but when it didn't happen, he felt a warm feeling growing inside him, probably due to the fact he was loving the hell out of Craig right now. Even Wendy sometimes told him he wrote girly stuff, even though she said it with a smile. And now, Craig just cuddled. No laughing. This result was exactly how Stan always imagined the effect of someone he loved reading his poems, and he was feeling the satisfaction creeping through him_. Yes. _

Setting his notebook on the floor next to him, he reached down to brush Craig's bangs out of his eyes and then began massaging his scalp with his fingers. "I should be sorry for like, almost dying that stupidly after almost being killed in Italy. Like, if I had fallen four stories and that got published in an obituary, I'd be laughed at in hell. 'Fell to death trying to get to boyfriend's cock.' Seriously, I'm an idiot. I don't know how you love me...but I love you."

He paused as he rubbed circles against the other's head, and then added, "...a lot."

**Craig just closes his eyes and lets Stan pet his hand through his hair. He really does like his hair being played with, and he nuzzles his head into Stan's leg to show his appreciation. "You're **_**my**_** idiot," he mumbles, his words encumbered by his cheek being smushed up against Stan's thigh. He tightens his hold a bit at that, locking his hands together like Stan's going to try and get away from him. No, he wants Stan to stay right there, with him. It doesn't matter how many times Stan almost dies; Craig will always be there to try to save him.**

"Are you afraid I'm going to leave? Because I'm not going anywhere," Stan observed quite straightforwardly, giving the other a skeptical look. It was an awkward embrace, and though he loved it, he found it a bit amusing that Craig was being so loving.

"I should show you my poems more often..." He mused quietly as he rubbed Craig's head, relaxing as the other snuggled up to him. Remembering what he had heard through the door, he fell quiet and thought about what he had heard. He figured Craig wasn't actually jacking it on the other side, just doing the auditory teasing - but then again, Craig's pants were unbuttoned.

"Uh...do you want to do something...?"

**Craig still doesn't really want to do anything, despite the fact that he never actually got off. He doesn't want to move, let alone do something vigorous. He just wants to keep laying there, holding – well okay he's pretty much clinging but he doesn't care – Stan. But he thinks it over, and he really did almost kill his boyfriend with that teasing, so maybe he at least owes Stan that much. And it's not like Craig hates having sex with Stan or something, and he really needs to pick himself up off the floor before he decides that he never will. "Uh, yeah okay," he agrees. He doesn't move, though, figuring that Stan would do whatever he wants and that he can just follow.**

"Well...I'm fucking starving now," Stan commented idly, still rubbing Craig's head. He wasn't really sure what he wanted now, because they wasted the cool whip on the floor and it was probably all gross now and buggy anyways. With a frown, he leaned his head against the cupboard and then commented out loud, "We should totally make like a pizza, and then have sex on the counter like in a bad porno." It was the only thing that came to mind right now - food. Sex. Why not mix the two.

"**Whatever you want, Stan," Craig says, nuzzling absently against Stan's thigh again with a sigh. He could go for a pizza, he supposes, and as he already thought, sex could never really be a bad thing. He still just kind of wants to lay there on Stan and just… enjoy being there or something gay like that, but food and sex is okay, too. Plus, he feels really lame for how dramatic he was just acting, moping around in the fucking kitchen. Getting up might help him feel less bad about that, maybe.**

"God that involves kneading the dough though..." Stan moaned, relaxing against the cupboard again. He was feeling especially lazy after his scare, and all he wanted to do was sit. And of course, Craig was forcing him to be decisive, which made him a bit irritated. He hated making up his mind. With a sigh, he rubbed Craig's head like he was a dog getting its back itched and then he said, "Let's just eat something from the freezer and go to bed, okay,...or make out, and then sleep. I don't fucking know, I'm tired. Don't be offended, I'm horny, but just...more tired."

"**I'm sure if you want pizza, there's probably a frozen one in there… you can just stick it in the oven and let it cook and we can just keep sitting here because I'm loving the shit out of it and I don't want to move," Craig says, finally actually voicing his opinion. It's not that he didn't want to say it, it's just that he was open to anything. But now that Stan said he was tired, Craig is fully open to just taking him back to bed and holding onto him all night.**

"Yeah, let's do that," Stan said, stretching his arms upwards and then pushing Craig lightly up so he was sitting. Getting up to pull out a frozen pizza, he unwrapped it, stuck it on a metal sheet, and then put it in the oven and turned on the heat and the timer. Sitting back on the floor, he pulled Craig so he was lying in his lap - a little bit insistently, simply because he wanted Craig where he was before. He didn't care if he was demanding with what he wanted right now, Craig admitted he liked it, so whatever. Petting the other's head, he sighed, and then leaned against the cupboard.

"I don't think I wanted a threesome...I just want you to stay interested in me, I thought you liked it when I did strange stuff."

**Craig is glad when Stan pulls him back into his lap because he'd grown cold in that short amount of time being separated from Stan's body heat. "Stan, I told you, I like **_**you**_**. I'd be perfectly happy if we fucked in the same position every time and never changed anything up. The shit we do is fun though, I'll admit, so if you like it we can keep doing it," he says. He nuzzles more into Stan's lap, and he's not sure why he's being so… **_**cuddly**_**, but he's enjoying it so he's not sure if he cares. He just wants the ability to shrink so he can lay fully in Stan's lap and just be completely on him so Stan can keep playing with his hair like that. "And… if you really didn't want it, then that's fine, but I had a talk with someone and if you really **_**do **_**want it… then I think I'll be okay as long as this third person follows all of my established rules because I really don't fucking want someone else touching you, so… if they follow restrictions I think it'll be okay…" he trails off, not sure how much he wants to explain if Stan doesn't even want the threesome anymore. Besides, if he tells Stan that it was Token that convinced him that a threesome might be okay, it'll probably just piss Stan off.**

"I don't really want anyone else in our bed, I think I'd murder them if I saw someone touching you," Stan said, even though it sounded possessive. He was inwardly cursing at himself for sounding so damn attached, but it was true - if anyone else...especially Token...ever...rammed Craig, he would probably cry for the rest of his life and be internally and emotionally scarred. It was just not a good idea.

"Not to sound like a creeper but really..." He pet Craig's head as he thought, his lips pursed, "I don't really want to see anyone on you, it'd be...creepy. I guess it would be okay if it was someone we knew and trusted, like...I don't know...uh...I can't think of anyone, right now, but there's probably someone right? But maybe that's something for another time, like...in the future. If we want to do that ever. Maybe we'll find someone who we like, mutually respect and we'll want to try it, it could be fun," He wondered who Craig talked to after a moment - who on earth would say okay to that besides Kenny?

"Who talked to you about it?"

**It kinds of makes Craig happy to hear that Stan would get just as jealous as Craig would. It makes him feel good to know that he's not the only one who thinks that way. When Stan asks who Craig talked to, it makes him cringe just a bit. He'd known it was coming, but he still doesn't want to answer it. "Um, okay I know you're going to get mad, but it was Token. And before you start thinking he just wants to get me in bed or something, he's against being the third person. Even by your own logic, if Token wanted to sleep with me, don't you think he would have done it a long time ago? Besides he knows I'd fucking snap him if he ever touched you. Well okay I'd never get that violent with one of my bros, but you know what I mean," he says. He tries to sound calm about it all, make it seem unimportant, but he knows it just sounds like he's rambling. But he really doesn't want Stan to get upset, because Craig is so comfortable, and he's still a little zoned out from whatever just happened to him, and all he wants to do is just lay on Stan, so he really just wants Stan to stay calm about it.**

At first, Stan felt his heart pumping a bit quicker at the mention that Token was the one who suggested the threesome. Why would Token suggest a threesome? When Craig said Token didn't want to be the third person, he internally scoffed. What, were they not up to par with Token's usual lays? What was so special about Token that he could encourage a threesome but not want to do one? ...was it just because Stan was there? Why did Token want to bang everyone but Stan? ...what was wrong with him? _Oh my god, why am I pissed that Token doesn't find me attractive_ _enough to bang,_ Stan thought irately, his hand tensing in Craig's hair. He had to mentally calm himself before he started stroking the other's head again, massaging in tighter circles, slightly digging in but not to the point of inflicting pain.

"...Why is Token against being the third person." Stan tried sounding less angry than he felt, but it came off as a quiet drone, completely monotone with a hint of irritation.

**Craig raises an eyebrow at Stan's irritation. Why is Stan mad that Token **_**doesn't**_** want to sleep with them? "Well, uh, it might make our broship kind of awkward if we fucked. And like I said, he knows I wouldn't be happy in the slightest if he touched you, and he doesn't want to piss me off, so… Besides, he only encouraged the threesome because he thinks it would improve our relationship or something. Yours and mine, I mean. Because like… I don't know. I've been in a threesome before and he thinks that letting you experience it would be a good thing. Just forget about it if you don't want it, though," he says. He doesn't know if Stan knows that he's been in a threesome, and he's not sure how Stan will react to the news, but… well he's about to find out isn't he?**

"...Whoa. _**Whoa**_. Wait a minute," Stan said harshly, throwing his hands up in the air and far away from Craig's head. "What do you mean you've been in a threesome before? What."

He glared down at Craig's head, fully aware that the other would probably be pissed that he stopped massaging his head.

"What do you mean you've had a threesome. Give me fucking names...wait. Oh my god. How many people have you fucked? Oh my god, you said you only did Tweek, what the fuck Craig."

"**When the Hell did I ever tell you I've only ever been with Tweek? That would have been a giant fucking lie and I don't think I've ever lied to you. Well, not since we got together anyways." He's a little peeved that Stan is so mad about this. "First of all, I was dating **_**Kenny**_** and there's no way we didn't have sex because have you **_**met**_** Kenny? And I've been with…" he pauses, still, not actually sure how many women he's slept with. Goddamnit, he really needs to sit and count it out one day. "…girls," he finishes, hoping that Stan just lets it off at that. "And the threesomes I've been in were with people that I didn't care about; it was just sex. But I love you and I don't want anyone fucking getting in the way of that; that's why this is different."**

"...how many girls, Craig," Stan asked, staring down at the other with a look of horror. With an eye twitching, he looked towards the musky kitchen light, and tried to breath evenly, even though he was a little pissed. Craig had fucked girls. Stan never had sex with anyone BUT Craig, thinking the other might have had one or two girlfriends before - but jesus christ, A THREESOME? What did he do, go to one of those lights out parties where they turn out the lights and hands go anywhere people damn well please? "So you like..." His voice broke in between his words, because he was somewhat choked up over the whole thing. "You don't want me to do anything with anyone but you completely leave out that you've been in a threesome before. Great."

**Craig senses that Stan is upset, and it just upsets Craig further because he's fucking done it AGAIN. This is exactly why he was so out of it just a few minutes ago… Maybe he should just not talk to Stan, just fucking stand there and never say anything and just **_**look pretty **_**or something. "Stan… it's not like that. I don't want you doing anything with anyone because we're in a relationship; that would be cheating. And yeah, I've been in a threesome, but like I said, it was with girls that I didn't care about. Girls… talk to me all the time, and when I'm single I don't see a point in turning them down because sex is fun… You know what, I'm just going to stop talking about it because I'm only making it worse and you're fucking upset already so I'm just going to… I don't even know what I'm going to do," he says. He pulls himself from Stan's lap, completely frustrated, but he's not sure if it's with Stan or himself or what. He stands up and ends up not moving because he doesn't know what to do. "I'll just… go to bed or something so you can eat dinner, and… I don't know; what do you want me to do?"**

"I want you, but I'm just...I'm trying to figure out if I'm angry that you draw in girls like a moth to a bug zapper or if I'm pleased because now I can go out in public and flip girls off and go, 'fuck you! he's mine', so just give me a minute, okay," Stan was hunched over now, his head in his hand as he looked off towards the stove grumpily. Seriously, why did Craig radiate sex? Why did a bunch of girls tap his boyfriend before he even knew he liked him? Why was he so casual about sex? The idea, though random, popped up in his head that if Stan was a twin, a threesome wouldn't be out of the question with Craig. Maybe he just wanted two Stan's, who the fuck knew.

"Okay, I think I just want you to eat pizza with me, in bed or something, okay. Let's just...go to bed and...do some gay shit like cuddle or something," He got up, glanced at the timer - it was almost done. One minute, close enough. He opened the stove, poked the middle, and then set it on the stove top and turned off the stove. "Just get me the plates so I can put it on it, okay."

"…**okay," Craig agrees, going to the cabinet in which they kept plate. He gets two of them and holds them out to Stan, not sure what he wants him to do with them. He's tired of thinking for the day, so he just wants to reach the goal of cuddling in bed and just end it there. He's not even sure if he wants to eat the pizza, but he will anyway just to create as little friction as possible in the rest of their night. Just fuck today… **_**again**_**.**

"Why two?" Stan asks, grabbing one from Craig and then pulled the pizza apart after slicing it with a knife. He pulled his hand back a few times though because of the heat, and he was pretty sure he burned himself, but at this point he was too hungry to care. Once half of the pizza was on the plate, stacked high, he licked his fingers and walked past Craig to the bedroom. Climbing into bed, he took off his socks and then stretched out on the bed, grabbing a piece of pizza so he could bite into it.

**Craig just sighs and puts the apparently unneeded plate away after Stan walks off. Whatever, he's not going to dwell on the fact that he did something ELSE wrong, and just go the fuck to bed. He's not sure why he's being so fucking sensitive about it anyway; normally he'd just brush something like that off. But he's had a long day, he supposes, and it's been a long **_**month**_** too, so maybe it's just al catching up to him in a really bad way. He hopes he doesn't get irritable because of it.**

**He makes his way back to their room and just lays on it on the opposite side of the plate from Stan so that they can both reach it. He takes a slice and starts eating it, even though he's not even hungry.**

After finishing two slices in silence, Stan found himself staring at Craig's face the entire time. Maybe it was his romantic side kicking in, but he was starting to feel like he should be paying more attention to Craig than the pizza that was separating them. Reaching down to put his third half-finished piece back on the plate, he picked it up and put it on the nightstand. Edging closer to Craig, he wrapped his arms around him and pushed him back on the pillows that were propping them up, straddling him. With his eyes locked on Craig's, their noses almost touching, he said rather plainly, "I love you."

**Craig loses himself a bit in their silence, slowly eating his piece of the pizza. He'd only just finished it as he watched Stan move the plate out of the way. He turns onto his back as Stan straddles him and just looks up at him, not sure why he suddenly abandoned his food, just to say he loves him. He just lets Stan hold his hands though and asks, "I love you too. Are you don't hungry anymore?" He thought that Stan said he was starving.**

"No, I'm fine," Stan said casually, even though he was on top of Craig. After earlier, he was feeling guilty for Craig getting upset again - he was always the one causing it. Back when they started interacting more than usual, like a month ago, Craig would have just beat the shit out of Stan and not thought twice but felt better about it. ...granted, Stan didn't want to be punched, but Craig miserable made him wonder if he no longer had a way to vent that frustration, and it was just...frustrating him. He always seemed more tense...and Stan hated causing it.

"...Do you want to sleep?" He asked quietly, his hands trailing up the back of Craig's neck as he pressed their foreheads together.

He paused, wondering if he should bring up what he thought. ...no, there had to be a better time.

"**Are you tired?" Craig asked, not caring if he himself is tired or not because he's not even going to put any more effort into today. No, just fucking relax and do whatever Stan wants to do, that will make everything easier. He just looks blankly up at Stan, with their foreheads pressed together, and wonders why Stan is being so touch-y when he was just so pissed in the kitchen. Not that he doesn't want Stan there, just… fuck, he's sick of thinking.**

"...I want to do what you want to do," Stan said quietly, sitting down on Craig as he leaned on him, effectively pinning him under a collapsed position. With his arms around the other's neck, loosely hanging, and his head against Craig's shoulder now, he looked a bit like a ragdoll.

"I'm sorry...I freaked out...I just...I don't know, I got jealous, I guess, it was stupid. Please don't be pissed with me."

"**S'fine…" Craig says, really not wanting to get into it again. He just doesn't want to care about it anymore, or think about it, or anything. He's sick and tired of everything being fucked up, and of making Stan pissed, and of things going wrong, and he just wants to be calm again for once in his fucking life. He doesn't even have the energy to be angry, or sad, or anything. He just wants to stop. Stop what, though, he's not sure. How does one just **_**stop**_** having things fuck up?**

Moving so he could look at Craig for a moment, locking his eyes on the other; he blinked after a moment and then slowly crawled off the other and under the sheets. Obviously, he had freaked out too often, and Craig was now completely uninterested. Great. Hugging the pillow to the side of his head, he reached over and turned off the light on the nightstand.

"Night Craig..." He said, hoping the other would at least spoon him. If he didn't, he'd probably throw his ass at him anyways and force-spoon him.

**Craig isn't sure what to make of Stan's incessant mood changes tonight but he doesn't want to fight it and just gets himself under the covers as well when Stan turns out the light. "Night Stan," he says, settling his head into his pillow. He still doesn't know if he's good for the night or not because chances are he still has time left to fuck something else up somehow because they're still awake. He really just needs to fucking relax and stop stressing out about everything. Today was just a mentally damaging day, maybe, and hopefully he'll be over it by tomorrow because he's really fucking sick of feeling this shitty. He also kind of feels like he should be hugging Stan, just because it's so normal, but he doesn't want to do it because Stan seemed off-put when he said good night and he doesn't know if Stan wants him near him. Well he'll fucking find out if Stan gets upset, won't he.**

Without even making a sound, Stan started scooting backwards towards Craig until he rammed into him - definitely crowding him on his side of the bed. With a contented smile, he snuggled down under the blankets and waited for the arm over his midsection. ...if Craig didn't do that either, Stan would seriously have to snuggle smother him or something equally threatening but cute so he didn't leave him.

**Craig turns when he feels Stan against him to be facing Stan instead of on his back. He puts his arm around Stan like he likes and just wordlessly closes his eyes. He seriously fucking hopes that he'll feel better in the morning after sleeping.**


	47. 07 09 2012

**07.09.2012** (Our RP group did something special for a week, lol, SEE IF YOU CAN GUESS WHAT IT IS. And omg I'm sorry that this chapter just kind of... stops at the end. This was hard for me to do, lol, Stan had to teach meee xDD so we ended it early so I didn't have to try anymore OTL so sorry that's my fault. Anyway, enjoy~)

* * *

Reaching up to itch his head from under the pile of covers, Stan realized he had to pee. Goddamnit, every time he had a good dream, he had to pee. What a pain in the ass.

Walking into the bathroom, he staggered over to the toilet - essentially drunk with sleepiness as he reached down and unbuttoned his pajama bottoms. His eyes were half-lidded and he was staring at the cabinet over the toilet so he didn't glance down. But he felt strange when he put his hand down his pants, searching for his dick. ...what the fuck. Looking down with a blank expression on her face, she narrowed her brows suspiciously, and then she turned and pulled down her pants to pee as a girl would.

After briefly rinsing her hands and doing a knowing grope to her own newly formed double D's, she stumbled over a pile of clothes on her way back to the bed in the dark. Her hand wandered over to the other and she groped semi-familiar breasts. Oh, hell yes.

"Craigggggg, wake up...I'm having that hot lesbian dream again where you and I are chicks and you roll over and you're like these clothes are too hot and I'm like I know and then we both get naked and we 69...So wake the fuck up, this will be a horrible dream if I dream we're both chicks and you sleep through the action," She rambled incessantly, her mind wandering as she shook Craig a bit more roughly. "Craig, come on, I don't know how long this dream is going to last so get your top off and feel my breasts."

**Craig stirs as Stan shakes him awake. "…what about lesbians…?" he asks groggily. He attempts to rub the sleep out of his eyes and opens one of them to stare up at Stan. "What do you want; it's the middle of the night," he asks, his eyes taking a moment to adjust to the dark. When he can finally see again, he has to blink a few times for it to register what's in front of him. Does Stan have… boobs? After a second, she remembers that Stan had said something about lesbians. She looks down at herself and notices two things that definitely shouldn't be there. "…are we both having the same lesbian dream?" she asks, unable to look back up to Stan. Of **_**course**_** last night was the first time she'd decided to wear a shirt to bed in a long while, and now her buttons are strained with the new bulging of her breasts. "What the fuck is going on…?" she asks again, not sure if she should be worried or if she should just enjoy a good dream.**

"What the fuck is going on? God, this dream is worse than I thought...you're probably going to tell me you're on your period now, right," Stan moaned as she fell over Craig's middle, draping her slender form on Craig. With a frown, she reached down to weasel her way into Craig's pants, feeling around in front- fingers mowing through Craig's hair, searching for something that wouldn't fit in a lesbian dream. No, not the hermaphrodite dream...though she had never had that with Craig, anyways. "So can I go down on you now, or are you going to question life's great meaning and cockbl- I mean, vaginablock... whatever. Can I go down on you?" She tiredly moved her hand from the front of Craig's pants to the curved hip, then back to her newly thick ass and grabbed a handful of the other's left cheek. "Come onnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn, Craig...I don't have very long dreams, you're going to fuck it up."

**Craig isn't sure what she thinks it going on, but before she can say anything Stan's hand is in her pants. She gasps at how **_**real**_** Stan's fingers feel against her, and she knows that this isn't a dream. She shoots upright, and gives Stan a bit of a wide-eyed look. Trying to ignore the hand on her ass, she said, "I don't think this is a dream, Stan." To prove her point, she reaches forward and does the same to Stan, slipping her hand down the front of Stan's pants. Her hand slides down Stan's smooth - still hairless - skin as she presses her fingers against her. "There's no way this could be a dream," she says, no matter how hard that might be to believe. But she knows she's never had a dream this vivid before, and it dame sure feels like she's awake.**

"Whoa- wait, keep your hand there," Stan said as she removed her hand from Craig's pants, then sat up herself, still claiming Craig's hand as she moved. Looking perplexed for a good long second, she narrowed her blue eyes as she thought about what this meant.

"So...let's say this isn't a dream and we're suddenly female. Why can't we enjoy this and then freak out," Stan's eyes were half lidded as she looked over at Craig. Damn, Craig made a really sexy woman. Especially when she was doing that stoic look that Stan loved anyways.

"But if you really want to do a dream check, go over and knock on Damien's door and see if an old lady lives there instead. That's what happens in my dreams, and I go YES SHE'S DEAF LET'S FUCK AS LOUD AS WE WANT! But if Damien's there, then we have a problem."

**Craig's brain isn't sure what to make of the situation, and part of her really, really wants to just touch Stan everywhere and not stop and part of her wants to know what the fuck is going on. With her hand down Stan's pants, option one is beginning to win out. "Yeah, I think we should just enjoy this while we can before we find out there was some nuclear explosion and we're going to die in three hours or something. We can figure out what's wrong after we go at it for a while," she says, rubbing her fingers tentatively along Stan's slit. She brings a hand up to push Stan back, guiding her back down to the mattress. She uses her free hand to rid Stan of her shirt and openly stares after she does. "Stan, you have **_**boobs**_**," she says unnecessarily. Though, maybe it's a little necessary because of the emphasis; Stan has **_**nice**_** boobs. She's so… well endowed. Craig idly wonders how big her own are but doesn't much care. She just takes a handful and leans down to give Stan a long kiss, not wasting any time before adding her tongue. She continues to rub with her fingers, stroking against Stan between her lower lips.**

"Nooooo, I thought they were sandbags." Stan said plainly to Craig's 'you have boobs' comment, unable to hide her sarcasm. It was playful though, and she groaned slightly as the other stroked her newly formed partition. It felt so good...She did miss having something else though, and even if it was enjoyable she was longing to do something -else- with Craig. Goddamnit, this was not how Stan pictured she would spend her female fantasy - thinking about being male again.

Snaking her small hands up Craig's shirt, she felt her boyfriend's new breasts and caressed her thumb over the left bud as they kissed. Her other hand ran up the back of Craig's neck and grasped her hair- it was still soft. Good.

Parting their lips, she whispered, "You make a fucking hot girl, Craig."

**Craig resists the urge to gasp when she feels Stan's hand go up her shirt. Somehow all of her skin feels… just a bit more sensitive than normal. "I'm not sure if I should be offended by that or take it as a compliment," she grumbles, lowering herself to suckle on a patch of Stan's neck. "But you're pretty fucking good looking, too." She can feel Stan getting wet, and takes the opportunity to slip a single finger up inside her. She leverages her thumb to continue to manipulate the outside folds as she strokes Stan's insides as well.**

"P-put more fingers up there, Craig, it's not an asshole," Stan instructed the other, though she was squirming at the touch from the other's thumb dancing around her clitoris and the folds surrounding it. With the addition of Craig's lips on her neck, she gripped involuntarily on Craig's breast, pressing down on the other's nipple with her pointer finger and thumb - rubbing it slightly as she pinched.

"**It's called **_**teasing**_**, Stan," Craig says, curling her one finger and continuing to caress her hand against Stan. After leaving what's sure to be another dark purple mark, she gives in and slips Stan another finger. She moves back up to give Stan another kiss, though, because she wants to feels their lips smashing together more than anything else right now. Actually, Stan's offer to go down on her is still milling through her head, but she's willing to ignore that to keep touching Stan like this.**

Moving her hips towards Craig's hand, she groaned audibly as she felt the entry of Craig's other finger. Truthfully, Stan didn't know how much it would hurt to put Craig's whole hand in there, but now that she had two fingers, she sort of wanted to tell Craig to just go the full mile and just put the whole thing up there. Letting her hand run from Craig's breast to her lower back, she grabbed the end of Craig's shirt and attempted pulling it upwards as they kissed. Breaking their kiss to maneuver it over Craig's head, she let it fall to the arm that Craig was using on her lower half and then arched her back while pulling Craig down so she could run her tongue between Craig's exposed breasts. Then she caught the left one in her mouth, sucking at the nipple before trailing her teeth down to nip at the pink area surrounding the bud.

**Craig can't keep back her gasps any longer once she feels Stan's teeth against her nipple. "S-Stan" she gasps, he back arching into Stan's touch, her lips, her **_**teeth**_**. Her fingers dig deeper inside Stan and she works them more fervently, trying to reach all of Stan's most sensitive spots. "More?" she asks, not sure why she longs to give Stan another finger, but she does. "And you should touch me, too…" she adds, feeling herself grow wet with the desire. It feels… odd, but not unpleasant. And she just **_**knows**_** it'll feel even fucking better with Stan touching her. Craig's right hand moves against Stan's breast, her having realized that she was too focused and hadn't even been using it. She rubs the pad of her thumb across Stan's hardened nub and teases it between her two fingers.**

"_**Ngnnnnh**_, yes...hand..." Stan muttered against Craig's skin, her teeth partially bared still but not pressed against Craig's breast any longer. Instead, she was trying to focus on Craig's hand, wishing the other to go further. God, this was just like the locker room. ...only with tits. "Go _further_, goddamnit," She grumbled irately, her eyes locked on Craig's, brows furrowed.

When she realized Craig had instructed her to touch her, she smiled wryily as she moved her hand along the small of Craig's back, over her hips and down around to the bend. Feeling her fingers entangled in the dampened area, she went down further and found what she was looking for. Then she took in between her finger and thumb the folds, and pinched teasingly.

"You mean touch there?"

**Craig presses her hips involuntarily into Stan's hand, craving the feel of Stan touching her, doing **_**anything**_** down there. "What… what the fuck right do you have to demand me to go further when you think you can tease me like this," she says, her words strained with the resistance it takes to not just… force Stan to touch her properly somehow. Then she has an idea. "So… do you still want to go down on me? Because I'll eat you out at the same time if you do…" she suggests, vaguely remembering hearing Stan say something about sixty nine when she was waking Craig up.**

When Craig pushed against her hand, Stan purposely spread her fingers apart so they now effectively raked against the other's skin down below. Keeping her face completely even, as if she were playing the best game of poker ever, she waited for Craig to get her idea - or really, to do anything. But the proposition made Stan's poker face go out the window, and her eyes widened as she opened her mouth to say 'yes', but was effectively muted with the prospect of 69ing as females. This had to be. The best dream. Ever. ...was it a dream? Oh, who the fuck cared! Removing her hand from Craig's boxers, she reached down and pulled off her pants and boxers and threw them on the floor. Hey, actions spoke louder than words, right?

**Craig watches Stan al but rip her own clothing off, and she smirks lightly at Stan's eagerness. "Excited?" she asks, easily stripping herself of the rest of her clothing. She pushes Stan down on her back, no room for debate, and promptly settles with her knees on either side of Stan's head. She uses her hands to spread Stan's legs, opening her wide to Craig's disposal. She eyes Stan a bit hungrily, not having been with a **_**girl**_** in a long time. "Mm, you ready, Stan?" she asks unnecessarily, because she highly doubts that Stan is going to say no. She ducks her head down and runs her tongue along Stan's separation teasingly. She kind of wonders if Stan has any experience with this, but whatever, it's not like it would make a difference for Craig, who's never experienced it because he's a **_**guy**_**. Well, was.**

Somehow, after she was positioned right under Craig, something didn't feel right. Stan couldn't quite put her finger on it, because she had been so damn excited for a lesbian dream ...and now here she was. Staring at the dark patch of Craig's new bend. ...and it wasn't satisfying. ...was she missing Craig's cock? _Goddamnit. I'm so gay I can't even enjoy a lesbian dream anymore,_ she thought irately, before she felt the flat of Craig's tongue go down her partition, and she shivered as she reached up to grab on to the other's thighs. "Uhhhgnnn..Craig," She whispered, and then glared at her other end. "Craig, seriously, what the hell am I supposed to do, climb up there. Can you like...sit on my face or something."

...why did this seem familiar? ...she realized in horror that Craig's underside looked a _bit_ like...no. Oh god, Wendy. Craig made a hotter Wendy. Oh god. Her eyes widened in horror when she connected the dots, and her heart beat quickly in her chest as she tried to stifle her panic. No, just drown in poontang, and she'd forget about Wendy.

**Craig rolls her eyes at Stan's complaints and he knees slide across the blanket as she spreads her legs wider to lower herself. She stops when she's sure she's where Stan wants her and goes back to her own work. She laps at Stan's dampened skin and licks her way past Stan's folds. She grips at Stan's thighs, where her hands had stayed when she'd spread them. Goddamn it's been a fucking long time since she's had any pussy. It makes her kind of sad that she doesn't have a dick, though, and she finds herself missing Stan's, too, no matter how little Craig ever actually put it in his mouth. She still enjoyed it.**

With her hands cupped around the front of Craig's inner thighs, making sure Craig actually didn't drop like a weight onto her face and smother her via bush. When she hovered just barely over Stan's face, she felt Craig's tongue working against her, pressing inside. Vaguely she recalled Christophe's mentioning of rimming - this must...be what it felt like...only it was significantly less gross. ...somehow. Either way, with the untamed wilderness tempting Stan, she wasn't going to waste time thinking about Christophe. Her muscles tensed as she gripped the other's thighs to pull herself up the few centimeters she was lacking, she at first curled the sides of her tongue to penetrate deep between Craig's netherlips. The other was already moist, and Stan had to keep her mouth firmly on its task so she would not say, 'so you're excited about the lesbian dream too I see.' With her teeth, she ever so gently took the tiny bulb in the front of the flaps between her teeth, knowing it was the most sensitive part- and having her teeth delicately graze over it in a teasing tug would probably make the other more excited, thus wetter. That, and there was still the ever-present feeling of having to one up Craig - and she knew very well her teeth were her weakness. After the tug was completed, she pressed her now pointed tongue further in, running it deep inside as she stroked along the bend.

**Craig moans when she feels Stan's teeth rolling lightly against her. Fucking Stan, knowing all the things she likes even when she's a **_**she**_**. She brings up one of her hands and uses the pads of her fingers to massage against the parts of Stan that she's not currently working on with her tongue. She delves her tongue inside, finally, and thrusts it along Stan's slick inner walls. She rolls Stan's flushed pink nub between her two fingers before settling back on rubbing in circular patterns. Stan's tongue on her is driving her slowly up the right wall and she has to focus to keep her own tongue moving.**

"Ahhh," Stan groaned as the other pressed against her; the massage was stimulating and she could no longer tell if Craig's saliva was what was making her feel damp or actually a natural reaction. It was just...weird. Using her teeth to gently nip the other's folds together, drawing them out, she then dug her tongue into Craig's partition, her eyes closed so she could focus more easily on pleasing the other even though she was having difficulty concentrating.

It wasn't long before she felt her body shudder - perhaps if she had actually been experienced as a female, she might have held off longer, but being over excited in the first place made it difficult not to orgasm.

**Craig can feel her body starting to tense with what she assumes to be her nearing orgasm. She's not used to her body, so she isn't sure how to hold it off, or even if she can. She feels Stan's body shake beneath her own and she knows that Stan has hit her end as well. Craig feels her whole body go tense and she feels an intense wave of pleasure crash through her as she bites her own lip to keep back another moan. She feels her body tingle with her post-orgasm glow and she manages to turn to be on top of Stan correctly before letting her limbs give out. She lands with her head laying on Stan's chest and she nuzzles her head into the soft pillow she finds there. "That was fun but I still don't think we're dreaming. Should we worry about it later?" she asks tiredly. Damn, even as a girl she gets tired after coming.**

"Wait, what?" Stan said after a few minutes had passed, purely enjoying the sensations and the lingering feelings. This was the most realistic dream he had ever had in his whole life . ...and then Craig said it might not be a dream again. And even though it was extremely alluring to see Craig with her face buried in Stan's breasts, Stan was starting to feel a little panicked. "...wait, we're not dreaming? ...oh my god."

Another seven minutes passed before Stan, staring at the ceiling, said, "...Craig, I miss your cock."

**Craig allows herself to lie there for another few minutes, basking in the easy feeling of her aftersex, but after a few minutes pass, she realizes that this is a bad thing. A really, really bad thing that is happening. And then Stan says she misses Craig's dick, and it finally sinks in. They're somehow both fucking women how. How does something like that even happen? What the actual fuck? "Yeah, I miss it too," she says, not sure how she should even be reacting right now. Even if she's angry or something, there's no one to be angry **_**at**_**.**

Stan stared blankly at the ceiling, feeling sort of lost. Now the absence of her dick was actually bothering her, and the boobs were sort of like weights pressing in on her - she could have sworn they were trying to crush her chest. With a humorless expression on her face, she reached up to absentmindedly pet Craig's hair, and said quietly, "Maybe we should ..."

Her phone cut her off, and she heard it buzzing on the nightstand. Reaching over with a little difficulty, because she didn't want to throw Craig off, she grasped the phone and went back to lying down with Craig buried in her bosom. With one hand, she surfed her messages, finding one...from her dad.

"Oh Jesus Christ...It's my dad. Goddamnit." Even though what was written would have normally been hilarious to other people, Stan was looking like someone had been killed as he read in a monotone, "Stan. Stan. I woke up today as the hottest chick ever. I have to tell you son, I'm making a huge life decision today to quit my job as a geologist and go into the porn industry. My dreams have come true I hope you understand. Oh, and your mother is divorcing me because of my decision. It'll be okay, son."

Stan sighed, still petting Craig's head. "Goddamnit."

**Craig doesn't even know how to respond to what Stan says. She just lays there, too stunned to think properly. So… her dick is gone… that's bad. That's extremely fucking bad. Really extremely fucking bad. And what is she going to do about work when she has to go in with boobs? Maybe she can call off for a while. And what about— everything. What the fuck. How are they supposed to function like this? "I think… we should just stay in the house until this passes," she says, not sure what Stan's opinion will be.**

"Yeah...I'm already off work anyways, I didn't tell them I had my foot healed. Thought it'd be too weird to explain..." She paused, reaching down to rub Craig's head, massaging her fingers through the other's hair.

"...do you think your cock will come back?"

She sounded extremely worried, and then added, "I mean, I love you, with or without but... ...like...we're going to have to invest in strap ons and it's going to be an investment."


	48. 07 16 2012

**07.16.2012**

* * *

**Stan Marsh: **hey craig?

**Craig Tucker: **yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **I spent the five hundred on something

**Stan Marsh: **well part of it

**Craig Tucker: **what did you buy?

**Stan Marsh: **in france clyde lost his letterman...I bought him a new one.

**Craig Tucker: **really?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah..he wasn't mentioning it at therapy but he always wore it before so I wanted him to have it again

**Craig Tucker: **that's... um, let me think of a good word for it

**Craig Tucker: **sweet

**Stan Marsh: **...you wanted to use gay didn't you

**Craig Tucker: **no, I just think it's cool that you guys are getting along now since I know you didn't exactly favor him after he intercepted your cuddles

**Stan Marsh: **...yeah...

**Craig Tucker: **so was he happy with it?

**Stan Marsh: **Yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I don't know what I would have done if Clyde hadn't been there

**Craig Tucker: **well you don't have to think about that anymore because he was and it's over

**Stan Marsh: **I kind of do want to think about it, though

**Craig Tucker: **why?

**Stan Marsh: **because I survived it

**Craig Tucker: **you've survived a lot

**Stan Marsh: **yeah...but...maybe if I remembered it people would stop having to save me every time I'm a dumbass.

**Craig Tucker: **or, I don't know, just think about things before you do them

**Stan Marsh: **yeah...that too...

**Craig Tucker: **so how has clyde been? I haven't talked to him a lot...

**Stan Marsh: **he's been okay

**Stan Marsh: **he spends therapy hitting on the therapist

**Craig Tucker: **he would do that, yeah

**Stan Marsh: **it's irritating lol

**Stan Marsh: **I keep telling him she's married with four kids but he's just like

**Stan Marsh: **into her I guess

**Craig Tucker: **he's into "her" yeah, all females

**Craig Tucker: **well

**Craig Tucker: **females with racks

**Stan Marsh: **yeah her rack is pretty nice

**Craig Tucker: **well that explains why clyde is hitting on her

**Stan Marsh: **yeah..

**Stan Marsh: **he doesn't seem all that upset ovefr what happened

**Craig Tucker: **well... he doesn't let things get to him

**Craig Tucker: **like he does

**Craig Tucker: **a lot, actually

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know how to explain it

**Craig Tucker: **when things happen

**Craig Tucker: **he'll cry and cry and cry

**Craig Tucker: **but when he's done crying, he's pretty much done with it

**Stan Marsh: **yeah he cried a lot..

**Stan Marsh: **then there's me who overthinks everything

**Craig Tucker: **that's why I'm telling you to try not to think about it. it's over, you're safe, alive, and you're home

**Stan Marsh: **I can't help it I do it anyways...

**Stan Marsh: **craig...I'm sorry I'm an obnoxious mess.

**Craig Tucker: **you're fine, stan

**Stan Marsh: **no...it's not fine

**Stan Marsh: **you try so hard and I'm a dick.

**Craig Tucker: **...are you okay?

**Stan Marsh: **I was trying to write and I just was thinking about all the times I've fucked up everything

**Stan Marsh: **and it's not you

**Stan Marsh: **it's me

**Stan Marsh: **I fuck it up

**Craig Tucker: **you can't help what happens

**Stan Marsh: **but I could have

**Stan Marsh: **I couldhave not freaked the fuck out and climb stupidly out the window

**Stan Marsh: **I could have not stormed out of token's house and just stayed the fuck inside

**Stan Marsh: **I could have not drank fucking mouth wash

**Stan Marsh: **like

**Stan Marsh: **I don't even know how you stand me, craig

**Craig Tucker: **well you loved me after I beat you several times so I could ask the same question

**Craig Tucker: **shit happens

**Craig Tucker: **it's the good shit that matters, right?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah...

**Stan Marsh: **and if I were you I'd hit me more often lol

**Craig Tucker: **well now I'd much rather pound you into the ground a different way

**Craig Tucker: **just don't worry about it, it'll be okay

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I'm going to try really hard not to be an idiot

**Craig Tucker: **well I'll get off work in about 15 minutes, do you want me to bring anything home?

**Stan Marsh: **like what?

**Stan Marsh: **food? oh, I made steak

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know, food or anything we need

**Craig Tucker: **okay well that sounds good

**Stan Marsh: **could you pick up milk and lik

**Stan Marsh: **e

**Stan Marsh: **...uh

**Stan Marsh: **I forgot the other thing

**Craig Tucker: **well if you remember, tell me

**Stan Marsh: **oh

**Stan Marsh: **lube

**Stan Marsh: **we ran out

**Craig Tucker: **okay I'll get some of that too

**Stan Marsh: **oh and hay for the guineas

**Craig Tucker: **I knew that already

**Stan Marsh: **okay just making sure

**Stan Marsh: **by the way Stripe is stubborn

**Stan Marsh: **I was teaching Monster tricks and so I tried doing it with him but he just sat there so I fed him the carrot anyways

**Stan Marsh: **its like he has 0 interest in life

**Stan Marsh: **can guinea pigs be depressed?

**Stan Marsh: **maybe he's got like...depression

**Craig Tucker: **he's not depressed

**Craig Tucker: **I told you before, he just doesn't like being told what to do

**Stan Marsh: **...did you teach him that

**Stan Marsh: **that sounds like you

**Craig Tucker: **well I do spend a lot of time with him

**Craig Tucker: **odds are that I rubbed off on him at least a little bit

**Stan Marsh: **that explains the stare

**Craig Tucker: **yeah, he'll do that if he thinks you're going to feed him

**Craig Tucker: **walk around, he'll follow you

**Craig Tucker: **and if he can't, he'll just keep looking at you until you give him what he wants

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Stan Marsh: **that he learned from you

**Craig Tucker: **ha, no, I just always give him what he wants so he expects it from everyone

**Stan Marsh: **...you didn't try to train him?

**Stan Marsh: **like

**Stan Marsh: **at all

**Craig Tucker: **well I told you that he responds to his name

**Craig Tucker: **and he listens to me

**Stan Marsh: **ugh it's so frustrating monster does all these cute tricks and stripe just sits there

**Stan Marsh: **I kinda want to roll him one of these times

**Stan Marsh: **but I think he'd kill me

**Craig Tucker: **he's wheek the shit out of you

**Craig Tucker: **but no, he doesn't do tricks, fuck that show crap

**Stan Marsh: **I'd get a pigpunch to the face probably

**Stan Marsh: **or I'd lose my hand

**Stan Marsh: **but the tricks are cute

**Stan Marsh: **and for me

**Stan Marsh: **not to show

**Stan Marsh: **but monster would win

**Craig Tucker: **well if you try training stripe he'll probably stop listening to you

**Stan Marsh: **he already doesn't listen to me

**Stan Marsh: **he just stares

**Stan Marsh: **he doesn't even wheek he just looks at me like I'm retarded

**Craig Tucker: **well he's old, he doesn't give a fuck

**Stan Marsh: **I guess its ok

**Stan Marsh: **I hug him so it's ok

**Craig Tucker: **he does enjoy hugs

**Stan Marsh: **he's so cuddly omg

**Stan Marsh: **and when I stick my face in his fur he dgaf

**Craig Tucker: **that's because he likes you

**Stan Marsh: **it's cute

**Craig Tucker: **duh

**Craig Tucker: **it's stripe

**Craig Tucker: **okay I'm at the store, is that all we need?

**Craig Tucker: **milk, hay, lube

**Stan Marsh: **adult diapers

**Stan Marsh: **...just kidding

**Stan Marsh: **but you have to admit thats a really hilarious combo

**Stan Marsh: **I'm sorry

**Craig Tucker: **well it's not like I give a shit

**Craig Tucker: **it's fine

**Stan Marsh: **I want to see you check out

**Craig Tucker: **cashiers don't even look at what you buy, they just scan it as quickly as they can because they want to go home faster

**Stan Marsh: **you'd have that sexy emotionless thing going on and the cashier would be like what is this

**Stan Marsh: **you sure?

**Stan Marsh: **sometimes people buy like three tubs of popcorn at the theater and I'm like there's one of you how is this appropriate

**Craig Tucker: **if you want, I can pick up some film for my camera too, just to make it even more awkward for the cashier

**Stan Marsh: **oh my god yes

**Stan Marsh: **then we can actually use that tonight

**Craig Tucker: **I haven't filmed anything it a long time though so I don't know if they still carry what I need

**Stan Marsh: **oh, dude

**Craig Tucker: **I used the last of it filimg fucking clyde amking tacos

**Stan Marsh: **you know what's open?

**Craig Tucker: **what?

**Stan Marsh: **that fair is open at the high school

**Stan Marsh: **the carnival thing

**Stan Marsh: **we should go tonight

**Stan Marsh: **they have a ferris wheel set up

**Craig Tucker: **if you want to, but it's already past nine

**Stan Marsh: **so?

**Craig Tucker: **won't they close soon?

**Stan Marsh: **probably at eleven

**Craig Tucker: **okay well we can go if you want

**Stan Marsh: **I can win you stuff

**Craig Tucker: **no fucking way, I can win /you/ stuff

**Stan Marsh: **dude

**Stan Marsh: **I fucking rock at carnival games

**Stan Marsh: **I will win you the biggest fucking stuffed teddy bear

**Stan Marsh: **OK

**Stan Marsh: **here's this

**Stan Marsh: **whoever wins the biggest stuffed teddy bear

**Stan Marsh: **has to let the other take pictures of the loser posing erotically on the teddy bear

**Stan Marsh: **and gets to top tonight

**Craig Tucker: **not that kind of film, I'm getting film for my video camera

**Stan Marsh: **we have phones

**Stan Marsh: **they have cameras

**Craig Tucker: **well whatever okay fine

**Stan Marsh: **are you sure you want to bet this

**Stan Marsh: **you know you're going to lose

**Stan Marsh: **and then I'm going to get a poster printed off for our bedroom closet of you with that bear

**Stan Marsh: **so when you're gone I can jack to it

**Craig Tucker: **well if that's the only reason you're betting

**Craig Tucker: **we can just give you other things to wank to

**Stan Marsh: **...no, I want you posing erotically with a teddy bear

**Stan Marsh: **oh my god it'd be perfect if it was a giant rabbit or something

**Craig Tucker: **...why

**Stan Marsh: **...because of easter

**Stan Marsh: **I could like, make you hold a basket and pose with it

**Craig Tucker: **...do I want to know

**Craig Tucker: **?

**Stan Marsh: **no not really

**Craig Tucker: **well fine whatever

**Craig Tucker: **I've got everything except my film, I hope they have it

**Stan Marsh: **ok

**Craig Tucker: **I never get to use that old camera

**Stan Marsh: **...what if you're not the one using it

**Craig Tucker: **it's always the digital one

**Craig Tucker: **who else would be using my video camera?

**Stan Marsh: **oh

**Stan Marsh: **I thought you meant you're going to win at the games

**Stan Marsh: **you know once I made kyle go get a trash bag and didnt' give him a reason and he left me at the arcade and when he came back I had like 40 stuffed animals from the crane machine

**Stan Marsh: **I gave them to ike

**Stan Marsh: **people line up to watch me when I go haha

**Craig Tucker: **please for the love of god do not give ruby anything like that

**Stan Marsh: **why?

**Craig Tucker: **never give her stuffed animals

**Craig Tucker: **especially from machines, she'll never stop asking you for more

**Stan Marsh: **but I can be her supplier

**Stan Marsh: **I'm great at getting them

**Craig Tucker: **"just one more, it's just a dollar, please, come on"

**Stan Marsh: **dude its only 50 cents for the old timey machines

**Craig Tucker: **and then another and another

**Craig Tucker: **yeah but she has a problem

**Stan Marsh: **and I get one on every try

**Stan Marsh: **except I have trouble with pacman but he's a fucker

**Stan Marsh: **we should go to the arcade then with her

**Stan Marsh: **and not tell her

**Stan Marsh: **and then I can start playing and see if she notices the pile of stuffed animals forming next to me

**Craig Tucker: **she will notice

**Craig Tucker: **stan I'm telling you don't

**Craig Tucker: **she'll go to the fucking mall with her friends or something and call you and expect you to come win her something she sees that she wants

**Stan Marsh: **that's okay

**Stan Marsh: **It'd be funny to show off haha

**Craig Tucker: **...you're not going so show off for ruby's friends

**Craig Tucker: **they don't understand what "off limits" means

**Craig Tucker: **they're teenaged girls

**Stan Marsh: **What do you mean?

**Stan Marsh: **haha craig are you afraid they might like me more?

**Craig Tucker: **no, that would make my life a lot easier if they followed you around instead

**Craig Tucker: **but seriously

**Craig Tucker: **you do not want this

**Stan Marsh: **come on it'd be funny

**Stan Marsh: **ok do you have the film

**Stan Marsh: **I hope you get a newbie cashier that'd be hilarious

**Craig Tucker: **yeah, I'm on my way to check out

**Stan Marsh: **okay

**Craig Tucker: **okay I'll text you when I'm done

**Stan Marsh: **after we eat steak we can go to the carnival and compete

**Craig Tucker: **oh my god I'm not even going to tell you what he said

**Stan Marsh: **what did he say

**Craig Tucker: **what kind of weird fucking...

**Craig Tucker: **he asked where I was going and if I was going to be alone tonight

**Stan Marsh: **hahahahahaahahahaha oh god

**Stan Marsh: **ily

**Craig Tucker: **stan I bought hay and milk, what the fuck did he think I was going to do with it

**Stan Marsh: **I'm not sure

**Stan Marsh: **but the lube was an interesting twist

**Craig Tucker: **yeah and fucking tape

**Craig Tucker: **I don't even know who he was

**Stan Marsh: **...was he cute?

**Craig Tucker: **why?

**Stan Marsh: **...well was he

**Craig Tucker: **uh, no

**Stan Marsh: **ok

**Stan Marsh: **good

**Craig Tucker: **yeah so I'll be home soon then

**Stan Marsh: **I baked some russet potatoes and there's asparagus, do you eat that

**Stan Marsh: **because I wasn't sure

**Craig Tucker: **yeah stan that's fine

**Stan Marsh: **and dr. pepper

**Craig Tucker: **alright

**Craig Tucker: **I'll be there soon

**Stan Marsh: **and I made a pie

**Craig Tucker: **why did you make so much food?

**Stan Marsh: **...because there was steak

**Stan Marsh: **it...all goes with steak...

**Stan Marsh: **cherry pie

**Craig Tucker: **oh well okay

**Stan Marsh: **...do you like cherry pie

**Craig Tucker: **yeah I like pie

**Stan Marsh: **oh my god I should have made pumpkin pie

**Stan Marsh: **fuck

**Stan Marsh: **that sounds really good

**Craig Tucker: **well you can make it some other time

**Stan Marsh: **or butternut squash

**Stan Marsh: **holy shit I'm hungry and I can't touch a goddamn thing without you here

**Craig Tucker: **I'm like eight minutes out

**Stan Marsh: **ok

**Stan Marsh: **...

**Stan Marsh: **wait are you texting and driving

**Stan Marsh: **omg I won't text anymore

**Craig Tucker: **yeah?

**Craig Tucker: **why

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want you to die

**Stan Marsh: **and I don't want to have damien put his hands all over you if you need to be healed so

**Craig Tucker: **I don't have to look at my screen to know what I'm typing

**Stan Marsh: **you have to read mine tho

**Craig Tucker: **and even if that happened, he wouldn't have to touch me everywhere, just in one spot, apparently

**Stan Marsh: **no

**Stan Marsh: **not even one spot

**Stan Marsh: **he's never touching you ever

**Craig Tucker: **why not? it's just healing

**Stan Marsh: **no because he's a douche

**Stan Marsh: **he's not invading any part of you

**Stan Marsh: **ever

**Craig Tucker: **invading?

**Stan Marsh: **...he reads thoughts

**Craig Tucker: **really?

**Stan Marsh: **yeah

**Stan Marsh: **like I wondered if having everyone on the same bed was a threesome when he was touching me and he laughed. he knew, craig, he knew

**Stan Marsh: **and it's creepy as fuck

**Craig Tucker: **that's why he laughed?

**Craig Tucker: **...why were you thinking baout threesomes while he was touching you

**Stan Marsh: **It was like one of those passing by thoughts I didn't want to think it it was just there and I was like, hating myself for thinking about that

**Craig Tucker: **why would you even think about that at all

**Craig Tucker: **okay nevermind

**Craig Tucker: **I dont' want to know

**Stan Marsh: **I don't want to fuck Damien, Craig

**Stan Marsh: **if thats what your hinting at

**Stan Marsh: **he's a fucking creepy bastard

**Craig Tucker: **okay

**Stan Marsh: **I was thinking about it because ...well, I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **I was wondering if we were all on the same bed if it was considered a threesome ok

**Stan Marsh: **I didn't want to threesome with him

**Craig Tucker: **alright

**Stan Marsh: **why are you upset

**Craig Tucker: **I'm not

**Stan Marsh: **olk

**Stan Marsh: **ok

**Stan Marsh: **hey...craig.

**Craig Tucker: **yeah?

**Stan Marsh: **...did you want to do that threesome still

**Craig Tucker: **well I never particularly wanted to do it, I was just saying that we probably could if it was something you really wanted to do

**Stan Marsh: **if you wanted to do it wth token that's okay with me

**Craig Tucker: **why token?

**Stan Marsh: **maybe I'm not giving him benefit of doubt or something like that

**Stan Marsh: **he's your friend so I figure if you trust him that's okay with me

**Craig Tucker: **well if you're trying to get yourself to trust him, I don't think letting him in our bed is a very good first step...

**Craig Tucker: **that seems like kind of a big deal

**Stan Marsh: **...it's up to you

**Stan Marsh: **I'm saying I don't mind

**Craig Tucker: **well like I said before, token wouldn't exactly be my first pick, but if he's who you want I can try to talk him into it I guess

**Stan Marsh: **...who'd be your first pick

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know but it wouldn't be token, I already told you why I don't want it to be him

**Stan Marsh: **well you wouldn't say that without there actually being someone else

**Craig Tucker: **there isn't anyone else, I didn't think about it that much

**Craig Tucker: **I assumed since you were the one that wanted it, you'd pick someone

**Stan Marsh: **well I said christophe because he might know some sort of foreign sex trick or something, i thought it could be interesting

**Stan Marsh: **I really don't want to see him naked

**Craig Tucker: **yeah

**Stan Marsh: **I really can only think of kenny actually doing something like that

**Stan Marsh: **somehow I can't picture token doing something like that

**Stan Marsh: **are you sure he does threesomes

**Craig Tucker: **token?

**Craig Tucker: **I don't know

**Stan Marsh: **dude you should ask him

**Stan Marsh: **wait

**Stan Marsh: **you're driving

**Stan Marsh: **shit craig why are you so interesting

**Stan Marsh: **keep your fucking eyes on the road dude

**Craig Tucker: **I'm home now

**Stan Marsh: **ok

**Stan Marsh: **get up here

* * *

**Craig shoots off a quick warning text to Token before heading inside the apartment. He really doesn't know why Stan suddenly thinks a threesome with Token is okay, but if it's what Stan wants, at least Token is his bro and he can probably trust him not to take things too far. He gets inside and goes to get his laptop. "Stan, I'm here, I'm going to IM Token okay?" he said, loud enough for Stan to hear wherever he's at. This… is probably going to get really awkward. "I'm sure it won't take that long and we can eat right afterward."**

"We can eat during, and I'll just watch," Stan called from the kitchen, walking out with a Dr. Pepper. Once he was seated at the table, he put his can down and then looked at the table he had set. Thank god he wasn't the one working at a restaurant, he sucked at setting the table. Everything looked so...disorganized.

"What'd he say?" he prompted, wondering if Token was already responding.

**Craig agrees and sets his laptop on the table, out of the way enough so that she's sure he won't get food on it. He starts eating as soon as he has food and a bit reluctantly begins his conversation with Token. When Stan asks what Token is saying, he scans over the last few lines of the conversation again. "Um, he's wondering how far it's supposed to go," he says, wondering that himself. How far did Stan want it to go?**

Pausing for a moment, Stan thought about the question intensely. How far WAS he willing to go? Probably not that far, but then again, he didn't think Token wanted to go that far either. "As far as he's willing to go," Stan said after a moment, and then started cutting into his steak. Though, in the back of his mind he really couldn't picture Craig receiving and Token giving..it was like his mind mentally blocked it out. But not a threesome with Damien. ...weird.

**After a few minutes of silent eating and typing, Craig wonders if he should be relaying what's happening to Stan or if Stan is already looking, he looks over at Stan when Token says something about probably not wanting intercourse with Stan, seeing if he has a reaction.**

"...Oh my god. What's wrong with me that he doesn't want to do me." Stan said out loud before he could cut himself off, and he slammed his fork into the steak. "Dude, ask him why. That's bullshit. He can do my SBF but he can't have a threesome with me? What, am I too ugly? What a fucking bastard."

**Craig asks Token and thinks that the answer was obvious. No shit he'd be pissed about it. He presses the issue, wanting a valid reason to give Stan. He scowls at Token's fucking smug 'heh.' Stupid asshole, thinking his charm works on **_**everyone**_**… well it doesn't. But this is for Stan. "He says that maybe with certain restrictions, which I was already planning on giving him anyway, so whatever…" he trails off, finishing his conversation. He turns to Stan and asks, "So is this something you actually want to do? Because he's asking when it's supposed to happen."**

Stan picks up his fork, and then goes back to eating his potatoes, a look on his face that was vaguely unreadable. It was worried if anything, really. He didn't know what to tell Craig - he really had agreed just because he wanted Craig to be happy, and he felt like since he treated Clyde differently...well, maybe Token was a good guy too. And maybe it would make Craig happy.

"...yeah," He said after a moment, looking up at Craig and then back down at his half-butchered potato. "I don't know when we'd do it though."

**Craig glances back at the laptop, having already told Token that he doesn't know. If Stan doesn't know either, then what are they supposed to do? "Um, well, when do you feel like would be a good time?" he asks. He's not sure he'll ever be prepared to actually have Token naked in his bed. Maybe that's one of the rules he'll have to place; Token can't be fully naked at any point. He's going to have a fucking lot of rules to lay out. Will it even be any fun after he figures them all out? Token might just end up sitting there.**

"I don't know, ...tomorrow?" Stan said, his expression unchanging. Really, he kind of was curious to see what Craig would do with Token in the room. Just...to see how he would react around another guy being naked. It was kind of entertaining to think he might get angry at Token if he came on to Stan, but he knew Token would probably try to come on to Craig ...

...and to tell the truth he kind of was curious to see what would happen with that.

**Craig takes the response for what it's worth and types it out to Token. they exchange a few words and Craig has himself doubting whether or not this is actually going to be okay with him. But he pushes his doubts aside for Stan's sake and just ends his conversation and shuts his laptop. "He says that tomorrow is fine," he says, not knowing if Stan saw or not.**


	49. 07 17 2012

**07.17.2012** (You just, just, gah, warning, fucking relax and make sure you're sitting down before you read this. xD;;; It is so sdkfjbgds omg Token you guys. _**Token**_.)

* * *

**Token Black**: Today had been strange. And Token had a feeling tonight would be stranger - or end extremely badly. Or both.

Either way, he left his house around 8PM to drive over to Craig's new apartment. He had never been, and he really didn't care to go right now because he felt like he was walking into a tigers' den. Really, he didn't think Craig knew what he was getting himself into- and why on God's green earth Stan thought he could handle it, he didn't know. But he was already rehearsing in his head all the regulations as he drove - nearly missing the turn off to the apartments. Rolling into a parking spot, he got out and straightened his black vest and then pocketed his keys after locking his vehicle.

With his lips pursed, he stared up at the apartment complex. He really didn't want to say no, because he worried it would offend Stan. But he didn't really want to say yes, because he worried his bromance with Craig would be ruined. And now he was worried that both of these things would happen, and it was the first time he ever had to additionally worry about sweaty palms because he was thinking too much into these things. Shoving his hands in his pocket, he walked into the building and climbed the steps, then went to where Craig had texted him to go. Knocking on the door, he waited for an answer.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig eyes Stan on the couch next to him. They're both just sitting there, not talking or doing much else. The fucking TV isn't even on. The air feels a bit tense, but it's undetermined whether or not the tension is from worry or excitement. It's because they know that Token will be coming over soon, and they know what's about to happen. Craig still isn't sure if he's okay with it, but he's got his mental restrictions for Token jotted down… mentally. The silence is thick, and a little stifling. Craig thinks about trying to say something to make the air break, but a knock on the door beats him to it.

He looks at Stan for a moment, and after a second of wordless communication, he stands and makes his way over to the door. He opens it and stares through the crack in the door at Token. "Hey," he says, and it sounds weird in his ears because it feels like forever since he's heard human voice. He opens the door more and allows Token inside.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan watches the two from where he was sitting on the couch. Dressed in simply an old t-shirt with Philip and Terrance on it and pajama bottoms, he really was trying to dress down for the occasion. Then he saw Token as Craig opened the door. The bastard wore formal. What an asshole. Why did he even suggest this?

Crossing his arms defensively over his chest, he decided he wasn't going to say anything. Instead, he took the moment to look at the blank television, as if it had something on it.

**Token Black**: Token smiled curtly as he walked in, his hands still in his pockets as he strolled through the apartment and sat down in an empty chair near the couch. Their furniture looked to be antiques - he was sort of worried that they didn't have plastic covers for it. Trying to push the thought aside, he looked at Stan, finding the other was looking towards the television intently. Well...if Stan didn't want to talk, this was going to be even more awkward. Glancing towards Craig, he said, "So I think we should discuss my rules for this whole thing before we even think of removing any of our clothing. And my rules include that I need to know my guidelines for this whole event, what you both do and do not want to happen."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig can't help but to roll his eyes at Token as he shuts and relocks the door. Always business, even in a situation like this. He goes to sit back in his spot next to Stan, though a little closer than he had been before. Whether it was out of possessiveness or in an attempt to comfort Stan – who was obviously a bit uncomfortable – he doesn't know, but he does it anyway. He gives Token a look and goes over his rules in his head one more time. "Okay, my rules are easy; there's only three of them," he says. He holds out a hand to count with his fingers. "One. No kissing either of us on the mouth. Anywhere else is okay; just not actual kissing. Two. I don't care what you see, but I really don't want you looking at Stan for other reasons, so I'm going to make you wear a blindfold." He knows how Stan reacts to staring and long eye contact, and he doesn't want Stan getting attached to Token or something because of it. "And three. No anal penetration unless both Stan and I say it's okay." He hadn't really gone over his rules with Stan first, and he hopes they're okay. He's sure Stan will have something to say if he doesn't like them.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan tried to stubbornly ignore what Token was saying, and then he partially ignored what Craig said, even though he wasn't pissed with him. He just wanted to know what this was like- if it had to be Token, so be it. Maybe he could make it miserable for Token. Put him on the fucking spot. What snapped him out of his concentration was Craig mentioning a blindfold - ...why was he making this kinky? And suddenly, Stan was sort of turned on, but he was inwardly kicking himself for it. Goddamnit Craig - why did he have to involve the kink in with the threesome?

**Token Black**: Staring at Craig without so much as making a smile, Token nodded without showing any hesitation or objection to what he was told. When the other was finished stating his guidelines, he said, "Yes, I agree with those three. I do have a few of my own, I'm sorry if it is a bit long..." He leaned forwards, propping his elbows on his knees as he spoke, staring directly at Craig. "Everything that happens here tonight is just sex. There is no emotional connection, we don't mention it outside the bedroom, and I frankly don't attach emotions to sex in the first place so this is just a shared physical experience between the three of us. If, at any point, either of you says something that makes me think you do not agree with this viewpoint, I'm out."

His voice was strong, straight-to-business and didn't contain a hint of humor in it as he spoke.

"If I want to do something to one of you, I'll ask both of you. It seems odd, but you're the couple here, and I need both of your permission to do anything that involves the other. So I apologize beforehand if there's a lot of dialogue, but it's just going to have to be that way." With another short pause, he added, "And there's absolutely no mention of anyone who is not in the bedroom. Not Kyle, not Clyde, I don't want to hear it. To get in the mood, I really have to set a scene, so if you bring up someone who is going to kill the mood, I'm not going to be happy and I'll probably leave then too. Also, if I make you uncomfortable, tell me. I don't want to make either of you uncomfortable - I'm the guest, you own the bedroom. And I'm not against bondage, but I'd prefer if we didn't go into full-on hanging from the ceiling type thing, I'm not into that. Lastly, if you want to roleplay...I'm not against that at all, I'm actually good at that. Just so you know. We don't have to utilize any of our talents during this, it can just be pure experimentation if you want. Just throwing it out there to the universe so you know what's available, I'm laying it all out on the table."

He leaned back in the chair, and then paused. "So are we in agreement?"

**Craig Tucker**: Craig just raises an eyebrow as he listens to Token's long spiel. Really? "Token, this isn't a fucking business meeting, it's just sex. You can chill the fuck out. And you'd don't have to ask before everything you do. Obviously you being here right now is enough permission, except for the things I already said. And unless Stan has anything he wants to be not allowed, too. If you fucking asked every two minutes, that would get boring." He looks over to Stan, to see if he has anything to add. "Is there anything you don't want him doing?" he asks, since Stan has been pretty quiet though this whole thing.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan wanted to reply, 'not touch me at all', but he found himself just staring at Token instead. ...did Token just really say 'roleplay' and mention bondage? How much did he know about Craig and Stan? ...then again...Stan couldn't remember if he and Craig had ever roleplayed. ...

"...Just...no asking, that'd piss me off," He said quietly, wondering if he had even spoke loud enough for anyone to hear. He looked at Craig, glaring slightly. Where was he going to get a blindfold, anyways? He never told him he had a blindfold. If he bought a special blindfold, Stan wasn't sure he'd be okay with that...it better be a kitchen rag or something.

**Token Black**: Even though he wanted to point out that he was mainly insinuating Stan might make a big deal out all this, Token shrugged it off after Craig scolded him. Well, he tried to warn him. And it wasn't like Token couldn't leave if Stan said something odd.

"So where's my blindfold?" Token asked, a coy smile on his lips as he looked at Craig and raised his eyebrows. "I assume we're going to start it off like that?"

**Craig Tucker**: Craig cocks his head toward the bedroom to indicate that Token follow. He takes Stan by the hand and stands from the couch, starting back toward their room. He squeezes Stan's hand briefly to try to be some kind of reassuring before they actually hit the bedroom. Once they get in there, he lets go of Stan's hand to make his way over to the closet. He digs his way around for a moment, trying to find what he needs, and eventually comes back out with a black tie. He hadn't actually thought about what he'd use as a blindfold, he just knew that he didn't want Token looking at Stan. He approaches Token and stares briefly at the tie in his hands before looking up to Token's eyes. …yeah okay those bitches need covered up. He puts the tie over Token's eyes and reaches around his head to knot it in the back. He makes sure it's snug and that Token's eyes are properly covered before he lets his hands back to his sides.

**Stan Marsh**: Sighing when Craig took ahold of his hand, he followed the other into the bedroom. Really, he didn't care for Token being in there. Or Token getting naked in there. Maybe he should just say he wasn't okay with it...but then, he was distracted by Craig digging through the closet, and he narrowed his eyes. What was he looking for? Then out came the black tie, and before he could verbalize his dismay, he watched his boyfriend blindfold Token. ...and that was sort of hot, even though he wanted to kick himself for thinking that.

"...okay." was all that came out, and he stared at Craig, wondering what was next.

**Token Black**: Before Craig had a chance to blindfold him, he looked around at the room - taking note of what obstacles he probably should avoid when walking around. Being blind was not an excuse for losing his smoothness in mobility. Once the blindfold was on snug, he took even strides to the bed and sat on the edge, leaning forwards with his hands on either side of him. With a clever grin, he said in a playful tone, "So I assume you're both standing there clueless as to what to do, so maybe I should instruct you. Stan, walk over to Craig and run your hands down his chest...slowly, let your fingertips linger as they trace his muscles underneath the thin fabric of his shirt...drifting downwards, _down_...then take off his shirt. ...**now**."

**Stan Marsh**: Stan stared at Token. ...was he really ordering him to take off his own boyfriend's shirt. ...what. He thought about getting upset that Token was thinking about how Craig's chest felt, and he sent a worried glance towards Craig as if to say: _is this valid? _But if this was the foreplay...well...fine, whatever. Craig would stop him if he wasn't into it.

"Ugh," He muttered as he walked over to Craig, and then reached down to pull off his shirt. He hesitated though, and thought about doing what Token said. ...he really did like feeling Craig up. And regardless of how much he hated Token, Token made it sound damn sexy. Looking a little embarrassed, he ran his hand down Craig's chest and then grabbed the hemline of his shirt and pulled it over his head, and threw it aside.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig was honestly surprised by Token's balls, telling Stan what to do, and he was about to say something about it when he noticed Stan moving toward him. He was even more surprised when Stan did as Token said. He looked down at Stan and raised an eyebrow at Stan's slightly shy demeanor. As soon as his own shirt was on the floor, he brought his hands to Stan's hips and pulled their bodies close together. He wanted to help Stan take his clothes off, too, but he assumed they were letting Token narrate, considering Stan actually DID what Token said. So he waited.

**Token Black**: "Hmm.." Token said after a moment, hearing the shirt fall to the floor. So he got Stan to participate. Wow, he hadn't expected that to happen. And Craig hadn't told him to shut up yet, so they must be into it... "...So Craig, you should remove Stan's shirt. Then run your hands down his back, trailing your fingers down his spine- then pull down his pants."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig gladly relives Stan of his shirt. He lets his fingertips lightly trace Stan's spine, all the way down to his pants. He nudges his hands past Stan's waistline and grips at Stan's ass inside his pants. They're just pajama pants, so he easily pushes them off Stan's hips, letting them slip down his legs and to Stan's ankles. His eyes connect with Stan's and he gives a bit of a mischievous smile. He's not sure where this is going but he thinks he might like it, and Stan still hasn't protested, so he thinks Stan might like it too.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan stared at the other as he moved his hands down his lower back, and then gripped his ass. He wanted to ruin the moment and say, 'Token didn't instruct you to grope my ass', but it was sort of hot - and hey, maybe if Token stayed on the edge of the bed, and he just forgot he was in the room...because he was blindfolded...then they could get it on without ever involving Token.

Looking down at his boxers, he furrowed his brow as he reached down and pushed them off too, stepping out of the pants and boxers and pushing them aside. Why did Craig not take those off, it didn't seem...oh, whatever. Token couldn't see him naked anyways.

**Token Black**: "**Stan**, you're getting ahead of yourself," Token frowned, hearing the sound of material hit the floor. He knew Stan had taken off his boxers - Craig was really good at listening to instructions when he had his mind set on following them. Especially when they involved someone he cared about. But hey, if they thought he was just that good, he didn't care.

"Why don't you both join me on the bed."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig has to resist his snicker at Token's scolding because it's not funny okay. All he's able to say is "Okay" and just takes Stan's hand again as he takes the few steps toward the bed. Token never said how they're supposed to get on the bed, so he just crawls onto it and sits Stan down next to him. Token will move himself if he doesn't like where they sat, whatever, it's not like they're going to stay sitting long, it's not a goddamn book club.

**Token Black**: As they moved to the bed, Token started to remove his shoes. Untying them and then putting them next to the bed right next to one another - in an orderly fashion- he then removed his socks and pushed himself up back on the bed towards the others. He had a vague idea where they were sitting, so he moved in a way he was mere centimeters from Craig's knee.

His next advance had to be carefully thought through. If he wanted to do anything with Craig, he would have to go through Stan. If he did anything to Stan, Craig would probably get jealous. So the only way he could see this working without someone hitting him was to say what he was thinking.

"Okay...Craig, seduce Stan."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig vaguely wonders when Token is going to include himself in this, but he's not exactly complaining for the time being. He gets to touch Stan and Token isn't in the way; what's there to complain about? Not that Token will be in the way if he approaches things correctly.

He turns to Stan and puts a hand on his side, pulling him in closer. He runs his nose up the side of Stan's throat, slowly trailing his way to his lips where he kisses him. He pulls Stan close, and shifts himself so that their chests press together. He runs his other hand up into Stan's hair and deepens their kiss, letting his eyes fall shut as he surrounds himself in the feelings of Stan.

**Stan Marsh**: Running his hands up Craig's back, he pressed into the kiss, at first a little hesitant. What if Token just randomly grabbed one of them in attempts to join in? Moving himself to guard Craig's exchange, almost defensively, he glared at Token before closing his eyes. If Craig's eyes were closed, he probably wouldn't witness the glare.

**Token Black**: Token heard their breathing quicken a little bit, and movement. He assumed Craig was all over Stan - that was what he intended. Even though he appeared calm and collected on the outside, Token was actually feeling extremely apprehensive at involving himself, especially with someone who he thought pretty much as a brother. The brother he never had...it was just, awkward. But Craig had asked... and if he withdrew himself now, he'd never hear the end of it from Stan.

Moving closer, he reached out and felt what he assumed to be Craig's knee since he had jeans on still. Thinking quickly, he decided to do something that was bold. Moving himself to behind Craig, he ran his hand along the other's thigh, then back up to his lower back - then leaned forwards and pressed his lips against Craig's shoulder. With a slight grin, he pressed his upper teeth against Craig's bare shoulder, but didn't bite him.

His hands trailed to the sides a bit, finding Stan's hands there. He put his hands on Stan's, and then said against Craig's shoulder so his warm breath rolled off of the other's skin, "You should probably lose your pants as well, Craig..."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig feels a hand on his knee, but he doesn't quite register that it's Token's. He feels Token move behind him, and Token's hand sliding up his leg. He grows a bit apprehensive, not knowing how Stan will react to Token finally joining in. He holds back a shiver when he feels Token's teeth graze his shoulder. Token's hands are on him, and he can feel himself getting kind of excited with two sets of hands on him at once. He hears Token speak, and all he can see in his head is the three of them naked on the bed. He bites down lightly on Stan's lip as he slowly disconnects their mouths to speak. "How is that fair when you'd still have all your clothes on?" he asks. He pulls Stan more against himself when he says it, though. Somehow even as he's talking to Token, he still wants Stan to be the one in his arms.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan felt Token's hands on his, and he broke away from the kiss when the other said something. What the hell? Was _Token's teeth on Craig's shoulder?_ He stared at Token as if he were an alien, which he very well was in their bed - and he felt his blood boiling. A desire to shove Token off the bed was threatening to ruin the evening, and instead his hands tensed and he started digging into Craig's back, and tried pulling him closer. Fuck Token.

"Yeah, do a strip tease for us." Stan said in the most monotone voice, staring pointedly at Token. The other couldn't see him, but it didn't mean he was going to not glare.

**Token Black**: Token moved away from Craig's shoulder when he felt Stan's hands tense. Maybe it was a good thing he had kept his hands there, just to see how Stan reacted to his advancements on Craig. Well, if that made him tense, then they were really in for a fun night. Trying to not frown, he moved away an inch to unbutton his vest, and then tossed it aside - normally he would have folded it, but he really didn't want it anywhere near the bed and venturing off from the bed might disorient him while blindfolded. The shirt followed suit; then he reached down and took off his belt and tossed it on the floor.

"Did either of you have any positions you wanted to try?" He asked, wondering if they had something else in mind that just involved a third person's participation. As it was, it seemed like they wanted to tell Token to leave the room and get it on by themselves.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig frowns at himself when he finds himself disappointed at Token's removal. He quickly rids himself of the thought though because he still has Stan and Stan is the important one in this situation. He doesn't bother turning to look after Stan tells Token to strip because he's seen Token's body before and it's not like he'll run out of opportunities to see it tonight, so why rush? He just leans his head down to nibble at Stan's neck, to let him know he's still there. He's not sure this is going to work out at all with how hostile Stan's body language is. He feels stiff and his fingers are digging into Craig's sides, and Craig is pretty sure he saw Stan glaring at Token. Why did Stan even suggest this? Should Craig just end it where it is and tell Token to leave? He suckles on Stan's neck and just waits for Stan to comment again. If Stan wants token to leave, he'll probably say something.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan stared over at Token as he took off his clothes, his eyes narrowing. God, why did Token have to show off and have a better muscle build than he did? Obviously, swimming built up the arms and...well, ok, he had a rocking bod. Whatever. The fucker.

"I'm uncomfortable," he muttered to Craig, staring at Token's chest. "Maybe another night."

**Token Black**: "What was that?" Token questioned, narrowing his eyes as he leaned back, trying to stay away if Stan was calling an end to it.

"...something wrong?" He waited, wondering if Craig would tell Stan it was okay to continue. What made him so nervous? ...

**Craig Tucker**: Craig can feel the mood dying – well, what little of it there was. He removes himself from Stan's neck and resists the sigh. He'd put all the effort into getting Token to say yes and actually getting him over here and now Stan doesn't even want it and he's the one that asked… He knows if he tells Token to leave, that he probably won't come back, at least not for this purpose. But… is that really a bad thing? Both he and Token had originally said no to begin with anyway.

He turns toward Token even though Token can't see him. "Um… maybe another night, bro," he says, not sure how to address it, so he just uses Stan's words. Things are going to be really uncomfortable from here on out and he curses the fact that Token is even there now. If they'd at least had a good time it would be an okay memory but now it's just going to be an awkward memory. Awesome.

**Token Black**: "Stan, if you're still thinking 'oh god, not Token'..." Token began, though he hesitated for a moment as he thought about what he was going to say. He normally wouldn't push the issue, and now that he had been given the clearance to run the hell out of there, he felt like he should count his blessings and take it and go. But something didn't seem right, and he didn't want to disappoint the both of them and have it be some sort of bad memory for their relationship.

"Would it help if I gave you a blow job? It seems stupid, but I forget about indifferences during sex. Maybe it'd help you loosen up. Just offering, don't feel like I'm instructing you to say yes, I'm just wondering if it would help before we decide this is a failed idea."

**Stan Marsh**: "W-what?" Stan said with his eyes narrowing, wondering if he had heard Token correctly. The guy didn't even smirk at that - what the hell? Did he really just offer to give him a blow job? ...

"...are you serious?" Stan inquired, glancing towards Craig with a confused expression on his face. "Did he actually just ask that or am I hearing things."

**Craig Tucker**: "No, he means it," Craig says, eyeing Token. Token's never been a liar, and with a straight face like that, how could he be anything but serious? He knows that Token offered on purpose, too, because it's Stan. He knows that Stan doesn't like him, so he offered him something 'humiliating.' Not that Token would be embarrassed by it, but to lower himself to sucking Stan's dick? How else do you show someone that you're not a bad guy?

Craig looks back over to Stan, and he can't help the pang of jealously he feels that Token would have his mouth on Stan, but he also feels a little excited thinking about how Stan will feel with _two_ people on him and not just Craig. "How about it, Stan? Do you want Token to suck your dick?"

**Stan Marsh**: "Token, I don't think...well..." Stan hated himself for inserting a 'well' into that sentence. Goddamnit, why was he so horny. He blamed his dad - damn genetics. That, and he was curious, and he sort of wanted to see Token down there.

"...what about doing it to Craig," He asked awkwardly, looking at Craig.

**Token Black**: "...okay, if that's what you want, is that okay with you, Craig," Token asked, though he felt a little disgusted with the fact he'd have to put Craig's...well, that was something he never wanted to do with Craig, leave it at that.

"...I don't care, if you want to watch that, then sure."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig raises his eyebrows at Stan. Did he really just ask that? He looks to Token from Stan and then back to Stan. "Uh…" he starts. He'd never really wanted Token anywhere near him in that area, but he supposes that a threesome is a threesome and how else are they going to start? Plus Stan suggested it, which Craig did _not_ expect. Why would Stan suggest that Token touch Craig at all? Especially after that little mini fit he just had? Well, whatever, he'd better just go with it. What's the worst that can happen? "Okay. Someone take my pants off."

**Stan Marsh**: Finding his heart beating faster, Stan moved to remove Craig's pants by having the other lift his hips and pulled them off the hard way. He did the same with Craig's boxers. Maybe he just didn't want to be the only one naked on a bed with Token. ...but now he was wondering why he suggested it in the first place. Maybe to see how Craig reacted? Maybe to see if Token really got into it? Either way, he looked at Craig with an uncertain look, and then glanced over at Token.

"They're off."

**Token Black**: Usually Token was gentle with people he was with, unless he was told to be otherwise. But as he crawled over to Craig, shirtless, he reached out and felt Craig's shoulder, and then pushed him down on the bed once he had determined which way he could shove him. Once on his back, he trailed his hand up Craig's inner thigh, then around the other's more sensitive area; hesitating for a moment before he gripped Craig. All he could do was think he was doing this to someone else to keep him from quitting. Thank god for the blindfold.

"Stan, if you want to watch...or participate...just jump in."

He said as he moved to all fours on the bed, bowing downwards as he stroked the other with his hand.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig's breath catches when Token touches him. Okay, that is one place he never wanted his fucking bro. He's kind of jealous of Token's blindfold, but at the same time, he's drawn to the action. He's not sure if he's more put off by the fact that it's Token or more pleased because there's a hand – any hand – on his dick. He's unable to tear his eyes away for a moment, because it's a sight to see, that's for damn sure, but he does after a few seconds to look over at Stan. He props himself up on his elbows and stares at him, willing a kiss to happen, because goddamn he wants Stan to be in this at all times.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan stayed back, even if Craig looked like he wanted him to join in. No, he wanted to watch. Part of him wanted to reassure himself he could handle seeing something like that going on- if he couldn't, he'd just call it off. But now watching Token actually...there...that was kind of a weird feeling. ...especially with the blindfold.

He looked up to connect his gaze with Craig's, but stayed where he was.

**Token Black**: The passing thought that this could be Kyle went through his mind, but he didn't want to make the moment anymore awkward for himself. Parting his lips, he moved his head so he was hovering just above Craig's cock, then he maneuvered his tongue around the head. Stroking the other with his thumb, he put him in his mouth, taking him in a distance but not deep throating him as he sucked forcefully. Obviously he had done it before with the way he moved his tongue, rolling it against Craig.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig gives Stan a kind of uneasy look when he realizes that Stan is keeping himself from him on purpose. Then Token actually takes him in his mouth. He hisses and pinches his eyes shut. He refuses to stick his hands in Token's hair. No. He can't. This is like some kind of weird fucking torture. There's a mouth on his dick, but it's not Stan's, and Stan is right there, and he's not touching Craig, and fucking hell why did he agree to this? His hands clench a bit in their comforter in his refusal to reach for Token. And apparently Stan is just going to fucking sit there, so what is Craig supposed to do?

**Stan Marsh**: He felt sort of bad watching Craig struggle by grabbing the blankets - obviously he felt like he should be over there with him, somehow, even if what he was going through wasn't particularly painful. With a frown, he watched Token and was confused as to if he just had a part of him die inside or if he was strangely aroused. Feeling himself react, he cursed at himself mentally as he knew the answer was probably the latter. Stupid Token with his stupid hot body and his eyes covered and...it was just all...

"I-I'm fine with it," He said after a moment, his eyes locked on Token.

"Just...no biting Craig."

**Token Black**: Token would have said deal to Stan, but he had Craig's dick in his mouth, and he was working him pretty roughly. With roll of his eyes as he continued on, he moved so his mouth was free so he could talk, hovering over Craig's erect penis.

"Okay, if you're fine with it, come over here and lick Craig's balls, and then cup them so they stay warm while I do this." Token instructed the other, his hand still on Craig as he looked in what he thought was Stan's direction. "Teamwork."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig bites his lip at the proposition presented. Two fucking mouths on his junk; that's something that's only ever happened once and dear fucking god he's looking forward to it again. He nudges his hips upward, urging Token to shut the fuck up and take him back in. Token isn't half bad at it, and he knows that Stan is good at it too. "Stan," he breathes out in agreement.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan stares at Token for a moment, wondering if he said what he did just to piss him off. But then he looked at Craig, breathless - _and then he said his name _- it was irrestiable, so he obediently moved himself over to the party. Moving himself down, he coated the target area with his spit, and then cupped the area with his hand as he watched Token work. Damn that bastard. He had that effect on people...

**Token Black**: "Whoa there," Token joked as he felt Craig jerk his hips upwards, and he pressed down on the bottom of the shaft as if to pin Craig. Giving a couple tentative licks up Craig's shaft as Stan went down, he turned to Stan as he said, "Now I assume you know about the prostate right...I want you to find Craig's with your free hand as he climaxes, it adds to it, a lot...Use spit, or something...put it on your hand and then go in." He hesitated before he found his way to Craig's head again, taking him in. He wondered if Craig would object. Really, he had no idea what Craig wanted, and he felt like he should narrate just because he had been earlier. The two seemed kind of clueless in the bedroom, he really didn't understand how they got anywhere. And that was coming from the guy who was blindfolded.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig's back arches when both their tongues work on him at once. He keeps biting his lip to keep from making any sounds he doesn't want Token to hear, but his breathing remains erratic. He hears Token say something about his prostate and he immediately figures that someone is going to be inside him somehow. What the fuck, that's only happened once and he's not sure if it's something he wants Token around for. Well, the first time Stan had ever been in Craig's ass was in Token's house so… maybe it wouldn't be so bad? He lets his elbows drop and he's flat on his back again, still gripping at the blanket. "That's fine, Stan," he says, not actually caring anymore. He couldn't give two fuck about what they do anymore. He's horny and hard and feeling awesome and he just wants to come. He wants to make Stan come, too. And… actually kind of Token. That's definitely not a feeling he thought he'd ever have.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan remembered the shoebox under the bed where he had stuck the lube so it was easy access - so he leaned over with some difficulty, fished around with his foot off the edge of the bed, and then pulled it out with his toes on the edge. Reaching down with one hand still on Craig, he grabbed the lube and then sat back down on the bed, and then stared at. He had one hand. How the hell...

**Token Black**: Token felt Stan stop, and when he heard the sound of the other shaking a box, he figured he was grabbing lube. But when he completely halted any progress, Token's eyes narrowed underneath the cloth and he reached out where he assumed Stan was - finding the bottle there. Oh god, he ran out of hands. With both of Token's hands, he popped open the lube, squeezed it on Stan's hand - hoping he had the sense to turn it to catch it- and then put the lube, closed, back on the bed as he returned his hand to Craig's shaft. It took mad concentration to keep sucking AND take care of Stan...which made Token wonder how they ever got anywhere. Interesting couple.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan stared at Token, wondering if the blindfold was actually working. Or maybe he just had magical...powers... with his lips pursed, he used his fingers to spread the thick liquid around and then moved his hand back on Craig, putting in a finger, working, then another, and pressing inside of him where he vaguely recalled he had been before. Looking to Craig's face, he wondered if he would be able to keep his cool once he did press in against it firmly.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig hears the two of them fumbling around with the lube and he's impressed that Stan is actually working with Token. He doesn't have long to think about it though before he feels one of Stan's fingers inside him. His teeth clench at the intrusion, it having only been the second time it's happened. It's not exactly painful, but still extremely uncomfortable. He tries to focus on Token's mouth, and his tongue, and the pleasure instead of the… weird. After a minute, though, and Stan's second finger, he gasps as a spark of sensation shoots through his body. His hips buck involuntarily and he hopes to God that Token can handle it because he doesn't want to have to clean up vomit again. "S-sorry…" he manages to breathe out. He presses back against Stan's hand, trying to get more of that fucking beautiful pressure on his sweetest spot.

**Token Black**: Catching the brunt force of Craig's buck, Token narrowed his eyes, for a moment thinking he would have to pull away. He recovered though, but he really wanted to slap Craig upside the head, even if he understood that there was too much going on and Craig was probably going to lose control. With a few more hard sucks, he started rubbing the area that wasn't captured between his lips for additional pleasure.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig is relieved when Token keeps going without issue. He hadn't actually had a chance to warn Token to hold him down, but even after that Token still isn't making any efforts to restrict him, so maybe he doesn't care? It's really hard to but too much thought into anything with Stan's fucking _fingers_ manipulating him from the inside. He can feel his composure slowly unwinding, and his climax building in his abdomen. He clenches his eyes shut and tries speaking again. "Stop – guys – I'm going to fucking come, stop." He doesn't want to be the first to let go out of all three of them, that would just be fucking weak. And he hasn't even done anything, just laid there and taken everything like a bitch. But _fucking hell_ it feels fucking good.

**Token Black**: Token removed himself from Craig's cock, not particularly liking when people came in his mouth. With a glance towards Stan, he said, "So do you swallow or..." He wasn't really sure how to phrase it, and it was awkward to ask, but he thought maybe it was some sort of weird couple thing. ...and really, if he thought anyone were freaks in bed, it was probably his bro Craig and his new partner.

**Stan Marsh**: "...yeah, but..." Stan stared at Token, wondering why he was offering. ...this was really awkward. With a flustered look on his face, he glared at Token as he moved to put his mouth on where Token's HAD been. Which made him think that it was like, one step removed of kissing, and the idea of 'sharing a cock' with Token was equally as disturbing as 'sharing a drink', or anything he had put his mouth on. But he did anyways, and kept moving his fingers inside of Craig.

**Craig Tucker**: "No, I fucking said _stop_," Craig says again, not wanting to be the one to come first. He can barely hang on with Stan's mouth replacing Token's. His toes curl in his efforts to hold back, but he knows he's not going to be able to hold out for long. He's going to damn well try though, because fuck those guys for not listening to him. "F-fuck," he mutters, on his last threads near the end of his peak. He's fucking bound and determined to hold out as long as possible if they're not going to let up.

**Token Black**: "Come on Craig, you don't want to keep us waiting, you're slowing the threesome down," Token teased Craig, moving so he traced his fingers delicately up along Craig's happy trail. He had a feeling that he was holding out because he didn't want to be the bitch in the room, even though Token effectively made him that way in the first hour.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan was going to try and talk, but instead it came out in a hum, and he sighed - which also resulted in a vibration of his vocal cords. Goddamnit, now Token was talking Craig into coming. There were so many things wrong with this, but Token was goddamn hot, and he hated him for it.

**Craig Tucker**: "Fuck you Token, I fucking hate you, you fucking asshole," Craig half heartedly protests. His breathing was completely ragged and he was having troubles keeping himself together at all, so his words come out breathless and aren't backed with much actual venom. His muscles tense and he grips onto the blanket, his knuckles white, as his last bearings. With another fucking damningly delicious stroke inside him, he can't help it anymore and comes down Stan's throat. He falls into puddle on his mattress and tries to gather his breathing and his thoughts. Seriously, fuck those guys.

**Token Black**: "Good boy," Token said in a half-heartedly obnoxious tone, patting Craig before he backed away from him, for a brief second thinking that he would have really liked to see how flustered Craig got over his touch. He pushed it from his mind though - he was still his bro - and he really didn't want to think that way of him. Better off with the blindfold.

"So do you two have anything else in mind?"

**Stan Marsh**: Since Stan was trying to concentrate on the act he was performing, he only thought of the humor of Token telling Craig he was a 'good boy' - like a dog. For some reason, it made him laugh, and at the same time, he choked on Craig, pulling off and coughing as he said, "Jesus Christ Token, you're going to get thrown out," He managed to say after a coughing fit, and then moved to lay next to Craig as he snuggled up to him. Seeing Craig as a ...bitch, was really weird.

"Hey," He said as he brushed Craig's hair out of his face, planting a kiss on his forehead. "Sorry."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig just flips Token off, even though Token can't see it. Fuck Token and his fucking everything and being an asshole… reducing Craig to nothing like that. He looks over at Stan as he kisses him. "It's too late for your kisses now, Stan; you're fucking next," he says. Stan is just as fucking guilty as Token here, so it's time for Craig to get some revenge. He rolls to his side to reach over the side of the bed and retrieve Token's belt. Sure, they bought proper bondage, but that shit is _so far away _in the closet. He rolls back and straddles Stan, grabbing up his wrists and fastening them to the headboard."Oh look, you're completely open to whatever I feel like doing to you. Whatever will I do?" Craig says, smirking down at Stan. "_We_," he corrects. "Token, come over here," he says. He doesn't really care what Token does, honestly, because at this point he's already involved and he's already had Craig's dick in his mouth so what the fuck ever. He dips down and kisses Stan thoroughly, making sure to leave no part of Stan's mouth untouched. He moves off to the side so that Stan's body is exposed to whatever they see fit, and moves down to suckle on Stan's neck. Actually… "New rule; no hickies. You can use your mouth, just don't leave marks."

**Token Black**: "No hickies. Okay," Token assured Craig that he understood, but gave him a peculiar look underneath the mask. He really doesn't know what Craig is doing besides the fact that he heard some sort of movement, and possibly the sound of someone being bound to the headboard. ...oh. That was probably it. He crept over, trying to feel in front of him without being obvious so he didn't run into Stan or Craig.

"What do you want me to do?" Token asked, wondering if he wanted him to do something with Stan. For him, he really didn't know if it was a good idea to tagteam Stan - but if Craig wanted it... oh well.

Reaching out to rub a hand along Stan's shin as he waited for a response, he bowed his head slightly as he focused on the sounds. Damn, it was hard to tell what was going on.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan glared at Craig slightly when he bound him to the headboard, his eyes narrowed. He really didn't want to 'be next' - no, there was no way...no, he didn't want Token's mouth anywhere near his dick. Returning the kiss, he closed his eyes and then felt Craig pull away in order to kiss down his neck - but then he stopped to instruct Token not to give him hickies. Seriously, it was like a dog pissing contest with Craig- no one could mark him but him.

With a sigh, he looked towards the ceiling, hoping that Token went, 'oh, I'm tired, let me leave'.

**Craig Tucker**: "I don't care what you do, just make him feel good," Craig says. He runs his hands down Stan's sides, and back up his chest, slowly, letting them linger on Stan's skin. "Just touch him and kiss him and make him _want_ us. Don't touch his dick yet, though, he needs teased." He drags the flat of his tongue up the column of Stan's throat and whispers in Stan's ear once he reaches it. "Isn't that right," he asks, his voice quiet and alluring. He kisses his way back down Stan's neck and begins to suck on his collar bone.

**Token Black**: "Okay," Token agreed, somewhat happy that Craig didn't target him. He would have probably pushed him away from binding him - he wasn't that into being bound, unless it was by a female. Finding his way to Stan's abs, he trailed his hand up to his chest alongside Craig's. It made him want to smile because he really couldn't picture Stan wanting him at all, and this was probably like torture.

**Stan Marsh**: "Yet? I don't want Token touching my-" He felt Token's hand join Craig's, and his eyes narrowed. As Craig planted a sweet kiss on his collar bone, he muttered, "I don't want Token...on..." He was starting to forget what he was going to say, which made him frustrated and he tried pulling at the belt on the headboard. The idea of Craig on him while bound was awesome, but Token...? It seemed demeaning somehow. Like Token could do anything he damn well pleased and he hated that idea. "Craig..." He gave him a sad look, a small pout on his lips as he stared at the other with a puppy-dog like expression.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig gives Stan a grin, not making any moves to let him go. "Stan, I didn't think you'd resort to begging so quickly," he says. He puts a hand over Token's hand guides it up Stan's chest, using it to caress Stan instead of using his own. "If you didn't want Token touching you, then why did you suggest him to be our third?" he asks. He trails the hand downward, past Stan's chest, over his abdomen, and across the inside of his hip. "He's already touched me, so why can't he touch you, too?" He presses his hand against Token's, creating a pressure as he guides the other's hand around the bend of Stan's inner thigh. He rubs back and forth, slowly, where Stan's leg connects to his pelvis. He realizes that he didn't ask Token first but it's just touching skin so how much can it matter?

**Token Black**: "Mmmmm..." Token said, more as an afterthought as he felt Craig guide his hand. It was sort of weird, like he was intruding on their space since it was Stan he was touching and Craig who was guiding. Sandwiched between Stan's pelvic bone and Craig's palm, he let his hand go limp as it was guided so it was easier to manipulate.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan pressed himself against the bed, as if he could back away from Token's hand. Goddamnit, why was Craig making him do this? Couldn't Token just...stay to Craig and just...not touch him? Frowning deeply, he watched with half-lidded eyes as Craig guided Token's hand down to his hip and rubbed his fingers there. Instead of responding, he just watched, reluctant to object because he was turned on.

**Craig Tucker**: Noticing Stan's lack in sarcastic comeback, Craig continues to massage Token's hand along Stan's inner thigh. He leans his head back down to kiss along Stan's neck and shoulder. He assumes Token will follow suit, and he wishes they had more hands so that they could touch Stan all over. He trails his tongue back across Stan's shoulder, up his neck, under his chin, and lands back on Stan's mouth. His free hand has been running along Stan's skin – his arm, his side, his chest, anywhere he could reach. He looks down at Stan through his half lidded eyes. "How are you feeling, Stan?" he asks. He lines his fingers up with Token's and squeezes Stan's thigh playfully.

**Token Black**: When Stan didn't respond, Token's eyebrow rose as he continued to run his hands anywhere that Craig wasn't - though he was pretty sure they would eventually bump into each other. When his hand was taken under Craig's again, he allowed him, though he was wondering what exactly Craig wanted him to do. If he had to give another blow job tonight, he might just go home - he didn't really care for it too much. But, then again, he was doing this for them, and he didn't want to back out.

**Stan Marsh**: "Ngggnh...goddamnit Craig you're a fucking bastard," Stan cursed at the other when he asked how he was doing, and then squeezed his thigh. He was trying to ignore the fact that there were four hands on him, two of which belonged to Token. "Just...oh, fuck you, Craig, seriously." It sounded harsh, but he said it a lot softer than he usually did when he was pissed with Craig, so the other could tell he wasn't really angry but just frustrated.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig places a kiss on Stan's cheek at the insult. "I love you too, Stan, but you need to tell me what you want us to do," he says. He takes to kissing back down Stan's body, scattered brushes of the lips, nips, flicks of his tongue. He runs his tongue along the top circumference of Stan's cock, but doesn't get close enough to it for Stan to be completely satisfied. No, he's not going to touch Stan until he asks for it. He's not sure where Token is going to fit in here, but he'll damn well fit somewhere.

**Stan Marsh**: "Go fuck yourself with Token's hand," Stan muttered under his breath, staring at the ceiling with an irate look on his face. He was frustrated, but he really didn't want either of them to stop or leave. Which made him more frustrated, because in his head he should be hating on Token, not wanting him to occupy his bedroom. With an annoyed sigh, he said, "Just..." Before he could actually finish what he wanted to say - just do what we did to you- Craig's tongue ran around him in a circle, making him tense. "Just fuck me...or something..."

**Token Black**: Token's eyes widened under the mask, but he assumed Stan was talking to Craig, so he wasn't that worried...yet. If Stan brought him into this, he would feel awkward, but he decided to let Craig take control of whatever was going on with Stan.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig's natural reaction is to reach for the lubricant, but then he pauses to remember Token. If Craig just fucks Stan, there really isn't any room in that unless… Ugh, he doesn't really want to just make Token sit there and listen to them going at it, but he doesn't know what to tell Token to do. He can't see Token bottoming to Stan – or really to anyone – and he's really not sure if he likes the idea of being a… middle. No, there has to be somewhere else for Token to go. "Token, what are you going to do while I fuck Stan?" he asks. He tries to make it seem like something alluring instead of actual curiosity, because in reality there are a _lot_ of things Token could do.

**Token Black**: "Well, didn't you state that eloquently," Token joked as he moved his hands away from Stan, pulling back for a moment. He had seen quite a few pornographic films with Clyde, so his interpretation of threesome activities were very different from other people's, since he could afford a lofty collection if he wanted it. And with Clyde, Clyde was always interested in anything that had breasts protruding in it, so he had quite a few films. So now he was thinking of scenes, and for a moment he thought that maybe he should just bow out and tell them to have a nice night - but it would seem like he was running off. ...wasn't far from the truth, but if there was one thing he didn't do, it was that Token didn't disappoint. Ever.

"While you do him, I could give him...a blow job I guess. And if he wants to, I don't know, sixty-nine...I'm not against it." He wondered what Stan's response to that would be. Even with a blindfold on he could tell Stan wasn't pleased with him. Just the sound of his voice made Token think he was disgusted with him.

**Stan Marsh**: At first, Stan thought that Token would tell them he would head out because they ran out of positions. That would be great. He vaguely recalled Christophe telling him to be imaginative, but with someone he wasn't that comfortable with yet, he just wanted Token to leave. But then he did the unimaginable...he actually suggested something that made Stan start turning red. ...was that even possible? He didn't respond to Token's inquiry because he was sitting there, trying to use human-shaped blocks in his head, playing some sort of sexual tetris to figure out positioning. That wasn't possible, right...? ...where would Token's head go? ...how? His face showed confusion as he furrowed his brow, staring at nothing in particular and zoning out.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig's mental eye immediately sees this happening, and he's not sure if it's a good idea or not. Token would be taking the brunt of Craig's thrusting straight to the throat, and he's not sure if Token can handle that. Granted, Token took it pretty well just however many minutes ago… but this will not be the same thing _at all_. "If you think you can take it, Token, then go right ahead," he says, assuming Token will know what he means. He looks down at Stan and see's how red he's flushing. Apparently Stan likes the idea. He leans down close and cups the side of Stan's face, his lips hovering close to Stan's. "Would you like that, Stan?" he asks. He can already see it in his head, and he's fucking prepared.

**Token Black**: With a complacent look on his face, Token shrugged as the other said he could if he wanted to. He wondered how Stan was reacting to this. This was one of those things where you said something just to make someone freak out - and he really was tempted to peek out from under the blindfold to see how flustered Stan looked.

**Stan Marsh**: "But how does that even work," Stan said a bit distantly, still trying to figure out how this would work. And he really hated that he would be doing twice as much work. ...it seemed a little bit like doing twins though, with Token and Craig being friends. ...awkward.

"...I don't know if I can handle it...uh...how does it work, someone explain it." He asked, looking at Craig. It was like a science formula or something, and he didn't get it.

**Craig Tucker**: "Well," Craig starts, looking down to Stan for his explanation. He moves and settles himself on his knees between Stan's legs. "I'd put you up like this," he says hooking Stan's legs over his shoulders. "And Token would get on top of you like I did the other day, and you'd suck each other's dicks." Remembering their week as females is a little off putting, but for the sake of the explanation, he lets it slide. He rests his hands on Stan's hips, leaving Stan's knees over his shoulders. He looks him in the eye, waiting for a yes or no.

**Stan Marsh**: "...So Token would be on top of me." Stan said slowly, like it was an afterthought. "...I don't want Token to be on top of me."

**Token Black**: Token had to bite his tongue when he heard Stan say he didn't want Token on top of him. It wasn't like he was going to do anything he hadn't done to Craig already...but hearing Stan sound like he was having issues with being on bottom was somehow hilarious.

**Craig Tucker**: "What the hell does it matter who's physically on top? You'll both be doing the same thing," Craig points out. He can sort of understand where Stan is coming from, but still, the argument has no value if there isn't anything different in what they'll be doing.

**Stan Marsh**: "...but it's Token," Stan insisted, finding it extremely hard to argue from this angle. His face was red, and he was glaring up at Craig. "...It's _Token,_ Craig." Like Token wasn't within hearing distance.

**Token Black**: "Stan, I'm blindfolded, I don't have sound-canceling headphones on," Token interjected, frowning a bit even though he was really trying to hold back a grin. Why was Stan so worried about him being on top, anyways? ...really, they were doing the same thing.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig just sighs, his hands falling lax on against Stan and nearly slipping from his hips completely. There really isn't a point in this threesome at all if Stan is going to keep holding stupid grudges that had no actual background. He doesn't even have an argument anymore. If Stan doesn't want to do the threesome, then he doesn't want to do it, and he should just send Token home.

**Stan Marsh**: "Wait, your hands- you're not gripping anymore, Craig," Stan questioned, though he had a feeling Craig was going to drop him back on the bed and forget about the whole thing. "...well, wait.. ...Craig...do it?" He wasn't too sure, but seeing the other just give him that pointed stare..he was starting to feel like a jackass for not giving in to peer pressure.

**Token Black**: "Are we doing it?" Token said, reaching over and feeling where Craig and Stan were, just so he knew where he was climbing on. Really, the blindfold was becoming a nuisance, and he didn't want to accidentally kick someone in the face just trying to mount the threesome. "Craig?"

**Craig Tucker**: "I don't know. Stan, are we doing it or not?" he asks. Full minutes have passed since the idea was raised and he's losing interest because nothing is happening. So they need to decide now whether or not this is going to happen.

**Stan Marsh**: "Yeah, let's do it," Stan muttered, glancing over at Token as he touched his arm. Seriously, he wanted to tell him to take off the blindfold, but he didn't know what would be worse - Token touching him blindly, or touching him on purpose.

**Token Black**: "So tell me when you want me on, I'll just wait for you guys to get it going..." Token said, not wanting to be in the way of the initial start. It seemed wrong to jump in there before Stan had some alone time with Craig. Somehow, Token thought this was the weirdest threesome he ever had - usually all three people involved were single, he had never been involved with a couple before. ...and a couple that had his bro in it made it all the weirder.

**Craig Tucker**: With the final confirmation, Craig reaches behind him to locate the lubricant he'd just bought. He pops it open and spreads some of it on his fingers. He brings them behind Stan and asks, "Ready?" but by now he knows that's a stupid question to ask so he just slips in his first finger. He works Stan open, easing his way up to three fingers. It doesn't take quite as long as it used to, but he still wants to make sure that he's not hurting Stan so he does a thorough job of it. He teases against Stan's prostate shortly, but he knows that Stan is about to be completely over stimulated in a moment, so he doesn't do too much of that. "Whenever you're ready," he says, popping the lube back open again so he can coat himself with it.

**Stan Marsh**: Pressing against Craig's hand, he groaned a bit as he was worked, completely forgetting for a moment that Token was even there. When Craig said, 'when you're ready', he was wondering why he even had to ask. Ready for -..oh. He looked over, his face still flushed, at the blindfolded guest in their bed. ...why did he want a threesome again? He made a mental note never to ask Craig for anything ever again unless it was life or death.

"Ready."

**Token Black**: Token hesitated as he tensed up to move over to the other two, but then realized, albeit a little late, that he hadn't asked Stan prior to starting a very important question. "Did you want me to wear a condom?" He asked offhandedly, waiting awkwardly for the answer to the question. He had about three in his jacket, but he'd have to get off the bed for that... and probably take off the blindfold for a minute.

**Stan Marsh**: Really, they hadn't used condoms in _forever_, so hearing the word was kind of strange. Red-faced, he looked at Craig and said, "...do we even have condoms?"

**Craig Tucker**: "No, we don't have any," Craig says. He's a little wary of Token sticking anything in Stan without a layer of something separating them. But then again, Token didn't seem to mind when Craig wasn't wearing one. Maybe he shouldn't care? He really would like Token to wear one, though. Isn't it really Stan's decision anyway? What the hell does it even matter, they don't have any.

**Token Black**: "That's okay, I have them in my pocket, but it's on the floor and I'd have to take off my blindfold for just a second...is that okay with you both?" He waited, wondering if they would object to him finding his condom. Really, he didn't get tested as often as he should, he didn't want to cause any rifts in their relationship by bringing something in the bedroom that shouldn't be there.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig tries his best to keep from being agitated that they've ended up just sitting and talking again. "Sure Token, go ahead," he says flatly. He looks down at Stan from his position. He vaguely wonders if Stan might want Token to not wear one, considering he didn't even have Craig wear one before they stopped using them. But he's sure Stan will say something if he doesn't want it.

**Token Black**: A bit hesitantly, Token slid off the blindfold, but made sure to focus his eyes on the floor and not at Craig and Stan. Nimbly he picked up his pants and took out the condom, and then cursed inwardly when he realized it was flavored cherry. Well, Stan would have to deal. Pulling the blindfold back down, he climbed back onto the bed and ripped it open, and then proceeded to put on the condom.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan stared at Craig as Token slid off the blindfold. Really, he didn't want to make eye contact with Token - somehow it wasn't sex with him if they didn't make eye contact. At least, that was what Stan was telling himself. Watching Craig, he stared at the other and then said, "...Should we start," Since he pretty much was sure that if they waited any longer none of them would feel like making an awkward night more memorable.

**Craig Tucker**: Without a verbal response, Craig just lifts his own hips to Stan's. He aligns himself and pushes inside. He figures that at least starting without Token will give Stan time to adjust before he's got new things to focus on. He pushes all the way inside and waits for either Stan to give him the okay to move or for Token to find his way over to his spot. This will be… interesting. And he won't even need a gag for Stan. …okay that was a bad thing to think.

**Token Black**: After putting on the condom, Token made sure the blindfold was down. Somehow he didn't want to know this was Stan he was about to do this to, it didn't make any sense - but oh well. If Stan was okay with it...he moved over to the others, and slowly got into position - lowering himself downwards to put his mouth around Stan. Inwardly, he wanted Stan to be wearing a condom, but he didn't want to start a fight because he hadn't requested one with Craig.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan tensed up as Craig entered him, and then he felt Token moving over. Goddamnit, he was ruining a good thing - but then he opened his eyes and looked up. Jesus Fucking Christ, what was he supposed to do with that? It was ...dear god. With a slight "Uhhh..." He felt Token doing something down there, and he was confused for a moment. This was ...no, this was ...but...why was it hot. Goddamnit. Why did he do this to himself?

"Craig," He said after a moment, wondering if Token would stop.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig, still not having gotten the okay from Stan, raises an eyebrow at Stan's somewhat serious sounding call. "What is it, Stan?" he asks, not being able to see him past Token's ass. That, he should not be looking at.

**Stan Marsh**: Without much delay, Stan said, "I'm going to choke."

**Token Black**: Token pulled himself off Stan and had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing. Oh god, if he laughed, Craig would never forgive him...oh god...but it was so funny...He kept his head down, hovering over Stan, just so Craig couldn't see his grin.

**Craig Tucker**: With a bit of a frown, Craig asks, "What the fuck do you mean you're going to choke? You do this all the time, you'll be fine." After he says it though, he realizes what Stan probably means. _Oh_. "Uh, I'm sure you'll do fine," he assures. "But, um…" he's not sure what to say. This whole thing has just been… awkward. Why can't they just have a three way fuck and move on with their lives?

**Token Black**: Finding the only way to avoid letting out a huge snort was to continue, Token put his mouth around Stan again, though he was having trouble concentrating. God, this was awkward, but so hilarious. He was so going to get an annoyed text or message from Craig later about this, he was sure.

**Stan Marsh**: Tense with sparked nerves, Stan said, "Okay...go..." He closed his eyes and moved to take Token in, and then narrowed his eyes. The son of a bitch put a cherry condom. Goddamnit Token, how did he know Stan loved cherries? What a fucking dick.

**Craig Tucker**: With Stan's okay, and not another word from either of them, Craig pulls himself back from where he'd settled inside Stan, only to push back in again. He starts out slowly, not wanting to jostle Stan and startle Token too early on. He knows that Stan will probably get annoyed with the slow pace though, so he picks it up little by little, until he's hit a nice, even pace. Not quite as hard as he'd normally go, but he figures that Stan is being over stimulated anyway and he's not sure how difficult he's going to make things for Token.

**Token Black**: Feeling Stan finally do something, Token tried focusing on what he was doing and not the fact that his bro was about to ram into his head repeatedly. This whole thing was getting really awkward, but at the moment, he wasn't really thinking about how awkward it was - it was sort of hot. He couldn't help but think of Kyle though when he was working Stan, and he felt incredibly bad about it - it was one thing to do this, but then be the one who betrayed his own rules...

**Stan Marsh**: Stan couldn't really focus at all, so he wasn't doing anything more than the basic blow job - if it was Craig, he would probably try to do something more elaborate, but he didn't realize how _over stimulating_ this all was, and he wished inwardly he hadn't agreed to it. Goddamn Token and his stupid cherry cock.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig isn't able to keep himself from picking up his pace. What can he say, he can't resist the feeling of sliding, driving into Stan. He's sure Token will protest if it becomes too much. He grips onto Stan's hips, trying to hold back some of the force of his thrusting, but he knows it does little good, considering his arms are attacked to his body. He angles himself a few times, trying to locate Stan's prostate better so that he can hit it dead on.

**Token Black**: Using his tongue against the shaft, Token pressed his curled upper lip against the vein on the underside. With a few harsh sucks, he wondered if he would get any warning before Stan went in his mouth. He thought that Craig's thrusting was annoying in way, almost like he was trying to knock him out.

**Stan Marsh**: Moaning at the added sensation of Craig finding his spot, and Token pulling at him, he lost all drive to focus on anything. With a noticeable lack of sucking on Token, Stan squeezed his eyes shut as he tried to keep from biting down on the other, groaning.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig could hear Stan struggling, and it made him smirk with satisfaction. He'd have to thank Token later for helping him make Stan feel so good. Or, maybe not, that might get awkward, but still, he might say something. He doesn't think about it too long, though, because he's starting to lose himself in the feeling of Stan's walls around him.

**Stan Marsh**: "S-S..." Stan couldn't even speak _around_ Token, so he just kept moving, but found himself releasing before he could even warn either of them. A disgruntled moan escaped in a hum, his eyes watering and his breathing labored.

**Token Black**: Token was too busy getting hammered in the head to realize that Stan was signaling he was going to come, so it was a bit of a shock to find his mouth being filled with something as he worked. Pulling away, he spit it out on the bed and then wiped his lips on the back of his hand, still moving his hips against Stan.

**Craig Tucker**: Noticing Token move his head away, Craig is a bit shocked to realize that that probably means that Stan already came. Well, Craig has the upper hand of having already come once and he assumes that Token is still holding on, so they'll just have to give Stan more, won't they? He's sure Stan can come twice in one go; he'll make sure of it. He starts to trust a bit harder, now that he doesn't have to worry about Token choking. If Token chooses to go back down, though, he'll have to slow down again.

**Stan Marsh**: Red-faced and out of breath, he tried concentrating on Token, but there wasn't a chance in hell he would be able to do anything. He was doing just body motions now, and he needed his mouth to breath, and he couldn't do anything but pant. God, he was out of shape - he hadn't done as much exercising since the school year ended, and it was evident. With another groan he half-assedly sucked on Token.

**Token Black**: "Stan, you ok?" Token said, a little breathlessly, but not by much. He actually was still in good shape, considering the fact that he wasn't exhausted like Stan must be. "I'll go back down..."  
He moved to wrap his lips around Stan again, a smirk tugging on the edge of his mouth. This was amusing, and he knew Stan would have something to yell at him for later, but who cared right now - it felt good. He reached forwards with one hand, tracing the bottom of Craig's back before he grabbed onto the other's hip bone roughly, as if signaling him to not ram him too fast in the head.

**Craig Tucker**: "Ah, fuck!" Craig mutters, feeling Token grip onto his hip. He doesn't think Token knows that his hips are sensitive, but either way, it causes him to buck forward once, dead on his target. He manages to pull together enough thought to realize that Token probably did that to get him to slow down. Well fuck. He does his best to even back out his pace, taking it a bit slower again.

**Token Black**: Feeling a thrust to his head, he thought he would have to take tylenol later. Damn, couldn't Craig hold back? With his lips still firmly wrapped around Stan, he rolled his eyes under the blindfold and continued to pull at Stan. God, they were both so inexperienced...he really expected more control from Craig.

**Stan Marsh**: "Ughhhhh..." Stan moaned, feeling Token go back 'for seconds', it didn't make any sense. Why didn't he fucking _stop_, he was tired, and there was too much going on, and in his face there was a huge fucking c- hngggg. But he couldn't pull back, his head was against the mattress and Token's body weight had him pinned. Aside from flailing, he really couldn't tell them he was tired, so he reluctantly took it anyways.

**Craig Tucker**: Somehow, Craig could almost feel Token's arrogance. He was belittling them in his head, and Craig knows it somehow. Well Token just thinks he's soooo cool holding out this long. He has to work Token over somehow, make him grovel for not stopping when Craig said to stop. He already got Stan back, but how is he supposed to get Token back…? Obviously Stan, being overwhelmed as he is, isn't going to make Token come with his tired mouth. Think, Craig, think…

**Stan Marsh**: Struggling with Token's weight on him, Stan grew tense again and felt like he was going to pass out. He tried to breathe through his nose, but it was difficult because he couldn't stop smelling fucking cherries. Cherries...just cherries everything...

**Token Black**: Obviously Token wasn't going to get anywhere with Stan half-assedly giving him a blow job, so he decided to just give Craig a headstart so he could head out for the night and go watch some nice porn. With a smirk, he remembered how Craig had jerked forwards when he touched his hips - so he put both of his hands on either side of Craig's hip bones, and then pressed down forcefully.

**Craig Tucker**: "You asshole," Craig mutters, feeling his body give an involuntary shudder with Token's hands on him. There's only one thing he can think of that will get Token off faster than he is now. Craig is already starting to lose himself, and he knows that Stan is probably just about gagging by now. The only option: Token has to move. And Craig isn't sure that he actually wants Token where he's about to request he go, but it can't be that bad, right? _Right?_

He gathers up his nerve, braving Stan's probable anger and Token's possible rejection. "Stan, do you care if Token fucks me?" As soon as it leaves his mouth, he regrets it, but he can't take it back. No, then he'd just look like a pussy. He waits for their responses, assuming that Token will have enough sense to let up so Stan can speak. Or yell.

**Stan Marsh**: "W-" Stan tried to say, but it came out muffled because of Token in his fucking face. Or mouth, rather. With a disgruntled shove, he pushed Token's hips off of him so he could speak. "What? You've only...I've only...He'd be like your...second...no, that's not cool, game over, everyone off," Stan said with a huff, not caring if Token was still on his dick - he shoved the bastard right off of him.

**Token Black**: "Whoa- wait a minute there," Token said as he tumbled off, losing grip on Craig's hips and falling on the bed beside the fucking couple. "Okay, wait. What does it matter if I'm his second - I'm wearing a condom, Stan, and you were his first, so... At all. I don't care if it's Craig or you, it's just sex, but..."

He reached up and pulled the blindfold up a bit as he gave Craig a questioning glance. "Really, bro? Me doing you? _Really_?"

**Stan Marsh**: "Ooooooooooooooooh, he's looking at us, oh my god, he took off the blindfold," Stan said, pointing an accusing finger. "Craig, he's mocking the rules, he can see!"

**Craig Tucker**: Craig raises both his eyebrows as he sees everything tumble apart in front of him. Well fuck, was it that shocking, what he'd said? "I only said it because it was the only thing I could think of to get Token to stop being…" he gives Token a look, trying to find the appropriate word. "Look, I know my bros, and he's been thinking something like 'wow, these guys don't have any stamina or control' and that's not fucking true. The only reason you've held out this long is because we haven't been touching you, and Stan was too busy getting fucked to give you a proper blowjob because I know how good his head is and trust me, you would've come already." He frowns, having had to try and explain himself. He shouldn't have to explain it, it's just sex, there shouldn't need to be a reason for everything. He takes a second to turn to Stan and adds, "And my rule was that he couldn't look you in the eye, not that he couldn't take it off."

**Stan Marsh**: "I don't mind then, I'm tired as hell, let's finish" Stan finally admitted, too exhausted to argue. Why were they making him test his endurance right now. This was not cool. What, did Token do endurance training or something?

**Token Black**: "Okay...right. Well, it's your ass, my friend," Token said with an air of smugness about him as he grabbed the lube off the bed, popping the top off. Lowering the blindfold, he crawled over behind Craig, hesitating for a mere second before popping the lid. Maybe if he just...pictured someone else...but for some odd reason, he still imagined Craig there, and it made it all the harder. Maybe it was because it _smelled _like Craig, and he could only picture Craig when he smelled him, and...okay, focus, Token, focus.

With one hand generously covered in the liquid, he lowered his fingers and stuck one inside, working the tight muscle. He leaned over Craig's shoulder, and whispered in his ear only loud enough for him to hear,

"Relax, Craig, it's only me."

**Craig Tucker**: "Okay...right. Well, it's your ass, my friend," Token said with an air of smugness about him as he grabbed the lube off the bed, popping the top off. Lowering the blindfold, he crawled over behind Craig, hesitating for a mere second before popping the lid. Maybe if he just...pictured someone else...but for some odd reason, he still imagined Craig there, and it made it all the harder. Maybe it was because it _smelled _like Craig, and he could only picture Craig when he smelled him, and...okay, focus, Token, focus.

With one hand generously covered in the liquid, he lowered his fingers and stuck one inside, working the tight muscle. He leaned over Craig's shoulder, and whispered in his ear only loud enough for him to hear,

"Relax, Craig, it's only me."

**Craig Tucker**: He didn't expect Stan to actually agree to this, so he's a bit apprehensive as he watches Token move behind him. Well, there's no backing out now, so… He lets Stan's legs slide from his shoulders, maneuvering them into an easier position. Before he has a chance to lower his weight onto his hands, though, he notices how close Token is, and hisses as a finger is put inside him. It's uncomfortable and he's not sure if he likes it at first, but then he remembers that _spot_ that's in there. The one that makes Stan go crazy – the one that made _Craig_ go crazy. It felt good when it was only Stan's first time doing it, and Token actually has experience. He has to keep reminding himself of these things to let Token keep going, because with his bro's finger in his ass, he's not so sure anymore. He tries to relax his muscles instead of clamping down, knowing that relaxing will make it easier and less painful. He ignores Token's words and does his best to ignore the fact that if he leaned back, just a little bit, he'd be able to relax into the support of Token's chest. No, he doesn't need Token's fucking support, he can stand on his own two… knees.

**Token Black**: "_**Good**_ boy," Token whispered approvingly as he moved the second finger in, reaching over to grab more lube. He was fully aware of his size, and he didn't want to murder his bro's ass. No, that wasn't smooth at all. He was going to ride him like an experienced cowboy taming a stallion. Putting a bit more lube on his hand, he worked in two fingers, then three, and then pressed inwards on Craig's prostate. "Try not to scream, Craig," He said as a fair warning, and then he reached down and coated himself before he lined his ship to the docking bay.

Pressing himself inside, he put his hands on Craig's hips and gave a squeeze as he muttered just loud enough for Craig to hear, with a sly grin plastered on his face; "Oh yeah, you're almost a virgin all right."

**Stan Marsh**: "What are you saying, Token," Stan scoffed as he felt Craig lower him, but he heard Token doing something behind Craig. And was he grabbing more lube? With a glare, he said, "What is he saying...? Oh, forget it, what are we doing...Craig?"

**Craig Tucker**: Craig wants to smack Token for saying something as degrading as fucking '_good boy_.' Craig is not anyone's obedient fucking puppy. He just grits his teeth and refrains from saying anything, though, because Stan would probably actually hit Token for that. He does his best to stay relaxed as Token eases him open, trying not to squirm. No, he won't give Token that satisfaction. He's sure his face is contorted in his mix of near-virgin pain and the pleasure of being touched in such a way, but he does his damnedest not to make any sounds, or – god fucking help him – _talk_. There's a reason he's quiet in bed with Stan, and Token speaking to him doesn't help his resolve to remain silent.

He scoffs at Token's warning, but he's well aware how well endowed Token is. With a decade of brodom, there's no way he hasn't caught Token naked once or twice or twenty times. As soon as Token pushes into him, though, dear god, he feels like he's going to be split in two. "_Jesus fucking Christ_!" he breathes, unable to contain his reaction. His hips buckle, and for a second he thinks he might fall but he somehow manages to keep himself upright. His breathing quickens with the pain but he knows – he fucking hopes – that it will get better after he relaxes for a second. He bends over Stan's body a bit, clutching to Stan's hips as his only means of support. "Just – just give me a second here, Stan," he says uneasily, trying to gather his bearings enough to actually bring Stan back into the act.

**Token Black**: Keeping a firm grip on Craig's hips, he dug his fingers into the other's bones as he tried to steady him in a way to help him. "Calm down there, Craig," He muttered, rubbing his thumbs up Craig's sides. "You asked for it...you better take it like a man, Craig," He whispered with a perverted grin, trying not to enjoy Craig falling to pieces before he even had the tip of his penis wedged into his near-virgin hole.

"I'm going to keep going, okay?" He said so Stan could hear him, but in a way that seemed almost degrading to Craig's pain. He had a feeling the other wanted to one-up him, though Token couldn't believe this was the best Craig could come up with. If anyone got a _one up _here, it would be Token. One right up Craig's delicate ass, that is.

Pushing further inside as he felt Craig's walls contort and strain, he felt an urge to go quicker but instead took an easy going pace for the sake of Craig's poorly restrained excitement. Now halfway in, he leaned forwards and whispered, "So this is why Stan mounted you back at my house, mmmm...you really are **soft** and **warm** on the inside, unlike your cold outer shell, Craig..."

**Stan Marsh**: "Craig?" Stan questioned as he heard Token mumbling again. Jesus Christ, what was that asshole saying? Craig looked like he was a mess, shaking and trembling like he was in the worst pain in his life. What was Token doing to his boyfriend? Stan couldn't decide whether to look horrified at what was going on, or if he was aroused from seeing Craig be reduced to a quivering mess. ...so he just stared with a shocked look on his face.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig nods his head in agreement, forgetting that Token can't see it, to acknowledge that he can go in further. He tries to keep ignoring Token's words, but they're honestly turning him on a lot more than they should. And the deep, soft voice he's using to say Craig's name isn't helping, either. Token's slow entry is like some kind of fucking evil torture and he can't help but to think that it might work like a band-aid; rip it off and it only hurts for a second. Maybe if Token just _does it_, he can adjust faster. He nudges his hips back against Token and says, "Just do it fast, and then wait." He bites onto his lip, bracing himself for the pain, because he doesn't actually know what this is going to feel like. He only _hopes_ that it will be better. He really wants to turn and tell Token to fuck off with his comments, but they're making Craig's skin feel hot and he doesn't want to admit it or deny it. Fucking Hell.

**Token Black**: "Whoa, haha...no, we're not going to rip your ass open because you're overly eager, Craig," Token said with a laugh, and patted Craig's hip as he eased in just as slow as he had before. "Especially not with an ass such as this one, you're like a delicate china doll - I have to take it easy on you." He leaned closer and whispered seductively, "And Craig... if you want faster, just wait until I have myself established inside you...I'll make you scream so loud that Stan will wonder what happened to you. He'll think you're possessed."

**Stan Marsh**: "Don't rip his ass," Stan said worriedly, snapping momentarily out of his funk to worry about the condition of Craig's rectum. With a frown, he watched as Craig braced himself, but Token didn't seem to be going any faster. This was some sort of weird torture. ...some weird...strangely erotic torture... ... ...why couldn't he take his eyes off of it?

**Craig Tucker**: "You're fucking impossible," Craig mutters angrily. "You know what I fucking meant." He's not sure if Stan can hear his responses or not but he's not purposefully hiding them. He's just actually so tense that it's hard to speak properly. Actually… if he were alone he'd probably be a lot more vocal, spitting comebacks left and right, making Token squirm as much as he is. But with Stan laying right under him… paying that much attention to Token seems… not okay. Normally he'd just say fuck it and have fun with it, but he's not sure right now because lately he's been messing things up. He pushes those thoughts from his mind and tries to focus on continuing to relax his muscles. If Token would just find his fucking prostate, he's sure he'll forget the pain soon enough. He also wishes Token would have just done what he asked because the sooner he adjusts to Token's size, the sooner he can bring Stan back into it.

**Token Black**: "Awww, that wasn't so bad, was it?" Token whispered as he got all the way in; his voice showing little to no evidence of what he was actually feeling. Having Craig this close - being inside him - was making him tremble a little, but he seemed to have his composure only because it wasn't the first time he had done something like this. With a grin, he patted Craig's left cheek and then gave him a small grope, rolling his eyes - he knew Craig wouldn't tell Stan, and it wasn't like Stan could see. Besides Craig's obvious loss of composure, that is.

"Now, go back in Stan," He ordered quietly, like a devil on Craig's shoulder. "Then we'll see how much you can handle, Craig."

**Stan Marsh**: "What is he saying," Stan muttered again, still partially horrified at what he was witnessing. It was so ... strange. On one hand he was furious at Token for making Craig that way - but at the same time, Craig that way...sexy.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig doesn't even know what to say for a moment. He feels so completely full, and he's not sure whether that should be terrifying that something that big is inside him, or extremely erotic. The stretch burns, and he's already thinking about if he'll be able to walk after this or not. Fuck Token, seriously, holy hell. Craig shutters with Token fully seated inside of him. There's no way – _no way _– that whole fucking thing fit inside him. When Token taunts him yet again, he turns his head and snaps, "We'll see just how much I can fucking take; why don't you _**test me**_**."** He glares and his words are breathless and hissed but now he's kind of angry along with his arousal. He'll fucking show Token just how long he can last. His cock is hard and heavy and he aches to be inside Stan again. After a moment of allowing his body to completely adjust, he lifts Stan's hips back up to meet his own. To signal that he's okay, he settles his ass back against Token will an easy roll of his hips. A strangled moan escapes his throat as Token's cock _rubs inside of him_. He grits his teeth, a bit humiliated but determined, and asks, "Are you ready Stan?" He positions himself and waits for Stan to give the okay.

**Stan Marsh**: Not that tense as he was the first time, Stan braced himself as Craig reentered, but then wondered why he was yelling at Token. Goddamnit, what was he telling him? It frustrated him to no end that he wasn't involved in their conversation _up there_, where both of them could be talking about him and he'd never know. With a frown, he said, "Yeah, ready, just...just go," He cursed at himself for wondering momentarily how it felt to be Craig right now, but he tried pushing it out of his mind.

**Token Black**: "Ohhhhhh, Craig," Token purred into the other's ear, quietly but at the same time in such a low tone that it would be considered sultry. "I love it when you roll your hips like that, the way you press your warm cove against my cock...just feeling you around it, consumed deep within of you - moving, gyrating - _**mmmmmmmmm**_."

He waited for Craig to start moving, and then he pulled out and then pushed back in slowly at first, teasingly; then he moved in a way he could slowly stroke the other's prostate. With a devious grin, he grabbed ahold of Craig's hips to steady himself, and then pulled out and in a little quicker a few times before he said in a hushed tone, "Do you want me to thrust into you faster, Craig? Or are you worried I might break you?"

**Craig Tucker**: Craig pushes back into Stan and loses his concentration momentarily as he's consumed with the sensations of being both penetrated and penetrating. He slowly begins to move, trying to match Token's thrusts with his own so that he can create a smooth, even flow between the three of them. He finds himself overwhelmed, though, and he can't even keep his eyes open. Fuck, this is all so much. He shuts everything out for a moment and tries to gather himself. He can do this, he's not fucking weak, he can be in the middle of a threesome and hold out just as long as fucking Token can. With his resolve, he becomes a bit more aggressive in his movements. Just in time to hear Token call him out, too. He turns and whispers back, his tone dark and a bit rough from his harsh breathing, "Fucking break me, Token. Pound me so hard that _Stan_ won't be able to walk for a week." He grinds his hips back roughly before hitting back into Stan. He bites down on the insides of his cheeks to keep from calling out, though, because Token can't know how much he's actually falling apart. It might be obvious with his body language, but at least he can hold strong with his words.

**Stan Marsh**: "Ughhhhh..." Stan moaned as he felt Craig's movements, wondering how the other was fairing moreover than enjoying the experience. With his jaw clenched, he thought at least he didn't have a cock in his mouth so he could actually clench his jaw.

**Token Black**: "_Mmmmmm_, that's the fighting spirit I want to break," Token grinned as Craig retorted hotly, his white grin flashing most likely just in the corner of Craig's eyesight. He felt the other trying to match his pace so they could have an even smooth train going; but he decided that if Craig was going to be bossy, well, he would have to teach him a lesson. With a couple rough thrusts, Token started to gain speed, now his breathing was a bit labored as he tried to make it incredibly arousing experience for Craig. He asked for it. And his body was begging for it.

"Come on," He whispered into Craig's ear, "I want to hear how loud you can get, Craig. Come on, thrust a little faster. Are you overwhelmed from my cock barreling up your tight ass? Come on, you can do better than this, Craig...I know you can. _**Scream**_."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig feels Token quicken his thrusting drastically, and he has to clench his jaw shut to keep from vocalizing. Holy fuck, holy fuck, _holy fuck_. He can't even help but to match Token, his body being more or less pushed and pulled into Stan's. He hears Token whispering to him, and he wants to let out his pleasure so badly, being edged on like that, but he refuses to give Token what he wants. He drives into Stan with the added force of Token's thrusts. He bucks his hips back against Token as well, all but bouncing between their bodies. He can feel Token deep in him, and it makes him want to shudder every time Token's body hits his own. He tries not to focus on all of these things, though. He needs to last as long as he can, and getting excited about things won't help his cause.

**Token Black**: Hands still perched on Craig's narrow hips, Token had a satisfied smile toying at the edge of his lips as he thrusted inside Craig. Sex was just sex, and really, it was sort of a game for him to see how much Craig could handle after all those times he bragged about being great in bed with who knows how many girls. His hands wandered downwards, feeling the length of the other's hip, down around his behind and then back up again where he gave a provokingly tight squeeze.

"_Mmmmmm_, come on now, you have to be at your end, Craig," Token said over the other's shoulder, his nose tickling the rim of Craig's ear as he stayed skillfully out of Stan's sight and hearing range. He took a deep breath in as he moved backwards, smelling the scent of sweat in Craig's hair as he thrust forward again. "_**Craig**_..." He moaned quietly, "_**Come**_ on, Craig..._ughhnnnnnnnnnnnnn_, you're slick with sweat, the smell is _**enticingly**_ sweet...it's making it easier for me to slide _inside_ of you..."

**Stan Marsh**: "Hnnnnghhh..." Stan moaned audibly, trying to brace himself by clinging to the sheets. Good god, he couldn't even imagine what Craig was doing right now - he was being overwhelmed just by the pace and the previous acts. With his eyes clenched shut, he could hear Token's low voice again, but the words were undecipherable from the sound of his heartbeat drumming in his ears and over his own groans. Goddamnit, he would have to ask Craig what Token was muttering later - it would have made him uneasy if he wasn't so turned on.

**Craig Tucker**: It's the worst feeling in the world to not be able to give Token his all because it's making him look weaker than he is. His frustration with not being able to fight back is fueling his determination, though, and it makes it a little easier to focus on not coming. Token's hands and Token's voice and Token's _dick_, though, were not helping matters in the slightest. Stan's moans, on top of that, are making it difficult to do much more than just thrust back and forth vigorously.

How is Token still so composed, anyway? If Craig weren't in the middle, and it weren't only his second time being topped, he's sure he'd still be okay too, though. Or maybe Token is just faking it. He hadn't expected Token to be so… _into it_. Talking dirty and touching Craig everywhere like that. Does Token even know Craig likes that or is he just doing it? He's not sure which option is better. Or worse. Either way, he's surprised his lip isn't bleeding yet with the effort it's taking not to bite back responses. Fuck this shit, it's like the worst erotic torture he can imagine. Okay, probably not, he could be tied up or something, but still. He needs to push Token over his edge somehow. He does the only thing he really can from his position and clenches himself around Token. It makes the friction hotter and he can _feel more of Token_ but if it helps get Token off faster it'll be good.

**Stan Marsh**: For some reason, Stan felt Craig shift - he wasn't sure how, but he wasn't paying that much attention to how the other was doing it - he just wanted it done. The thrusting, that was. And having Token out of his sight - and Craig hunched over him - it was somewhat acceptable on some level, because it put Craig between him and Token. He couldn't handle being any closer to the asshole. ...even though this was somewhat uneasy for him, because it meant his boyfriend was being impaled by his super huge bff.

"C-Craig," He moaned, trying to hold back - Craig was way too close for him to do something like release, he'd get so...messy. ...but they were already covered in sweat, so who cared?

"Can I..."

**Token Black**: Feeling Craig's walls clenching down around his stiff cock, he moaned quietly. "_**Ugnnnnnnnnnn**_, Craig...**yes**, I want to feel you **clench** those muscles around me as I _**stroke your insides**_...I just love the way you feel _**clamped**_ down around my **cock**..." His breathing actually had changed, despite his enigmatic behavior and sexual comments. He actually couldn't cover up his occasional panting with every thrust, shivering as he breached the other's newly reinforced fortress. He still wasn't going to let Craig get away that easily with simply clenching down on him, no - he could withstand a lot more. ...A lot more.

Pushing himself in with a steady force, he crept back to his place behind Craig's ear - but this time he didn't use words. This time he ran his tongue down the rim of Craig's ear downwards, his teeth grazing the other's ear lobe and then giving a teasingly quick tug before he pulled back out. To have that much control as they were rocking in time with one another, without biting off Craig's ear - he knew it would drive Craig up a wall.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig hears Stan's question, and wonders how he's so close already again. He'll feel fucking terrible if Stan comes again and he and Token haven't yet. Because… they can't just _not_ come, so they'll have to keep going. And Craig doesn't know if he can keep going without Stan and keep a clean conscience at the same time. Token's teeth on his ear strip away his last bit of resistance. Okay, he's losing, badly, and he's okay with admitting that to himself. But he can't admit that to Token, and definitely not to Stan. Token didn't even bite him, technically, but just his fucking _teeth_, he just can't handle it. There are all sorts of things he could be doing to get Token back; touching him, saying even dirtier things, flipping him on his back and – no, oh god, what is he thinking. This is _Token_. His _bro_. And his _boyfriend_ is right _under him._ He needs to get a fucking grip.

**Stan Marsh**: Not being able to hold back, Stan went on Craig, and felt guilty about it as he continued to arch and press against Craig. His body was slick with sweat as he tried to keep up, but he was fucking tired. So. Fucking. Tired. And Token and Craig were like duking it out over him and he couldn't handle it anymore - he said with an obvious plea, "Craig, I'm fucking t-tired...please..."

**Token Black**: "You heard him, Craig," Token whispered a little sadistically in Craig's ear, his lips tickling the other's delicate skin as he murmured. "You should have mercy on him, Craig...he's not going to be able to keep up with me. Come on, Craig, just admit that you can't hold off as long as I can, and we can be done..." He said between light pants, his thumbs pressing against Craig's hipbone in circular movements.

"Go on, be a good boy and listen to your boyfriend, Craig."

**Craig Tucker**: Craig audibly growls at Token's use of Stan as an excuse to get him to give up. What a fucking asshole. He slides out of Stan because of his tired, broken plea. He can't force Stan to keep going if he's tired, that would be cruel. But won't it also be cruel to have Stan lay there and watch… this? And honestly, Craig is tired too, but there's no way he's going to let Token win easily. True, Token might win in the end, but it won't be an easy fight. He doesn't take his hands off Stan, because if Stan is okay with them finishing, he doesn't think Stan will be okay with him getting wrapped up in Token. No, Stan has to stay included, even if he's not participating. "Fuck you, Token," he mutters, turning his head to glare at him, not caring that he can't see. He's so hard that it hurts, and his insides are being fucking abused, and all he can do is _feel_. Why does it have to feel this goddamn good?

**Stan Marsh**: Stan collapsed on the bed in front of the two, still underneath Craig's arched form. Breathing heavily, he could see spots from overexcitement - his face burned and he just wanted to be curled up in his bed and asleep. But...Craig and Token were still going. And now he wanted to stare at the two as they did...whatever they were doing. Was this...gay sexual wrestling? What? He didn't even know what this was anymore.

**Token Black**: Token felt Craig shift to pull himself out of Stan, and he grinned. Really. Was Craig really trying that hard to out endure him. With a grin, he put his forehead on the arch of Craig's neck as he continued to thrust into Craig, feeling invigorated by the sense of challenge. When Craig turned to look at him and say 'fuck you', he chuckled as he squeezed Craig's hip bones roughly, and then said quietly, "No, I think I'm fucking you, Craig. Are you that tired?"

**Craig Tucker**: "You're only fucking me because I _let_ you," Craig hisses. Really the only thing allowing him to hold on is his anger. He's not _mad_, per say, but definitely angry. How dare Token think he's better than Craig. Actually, Craig is doing pretty fucking well for himself, considering he's not used to his prostate being rammed into like this. And on _top_ of that, he was inside his boyfriend. Holding out this long is a fucking miracle. He wants to come, though, god he wants to come so bad. It's becoming a physical ache to not do it, and the pleasure is clouding his thoughts. It's almost hard to recognize that this is Token behind him. It's just sex. Really good sex. And he just wants to keep feeling it.

**Stan Marsh**: "Do you want me to like... ...get involved," Stan said tiredly, staring up at Craig.

**Token Black**: "You should give him a hand job, Stan...so he can get off." Token said to the other, a grin still on his face but hidden by Craig's head. He had to suppress another chuckle though, because he was enjoying the fact that Craig was flustered and still trying to be the top man. He lifted one hand to loudly suck on a few of his fingers, coating it with spit before he moved his curved fingers underneath Craig's bottom, toying around with the other's balls before he cupped them.

**Craig Tucker**: "You can do whatever you want, Stan. If you're tired you don't have to listen to this asshole," Craig says through his panted breaths. His balls are already tense with the release he won't let happen, so Token's added hand makes him gasp out loud. He leans forward, dropping his weight into his hands at Stan's sides on the mattress. The new angle has him clenching his eyes shut, along with his jaw. Fuck, why did he move? Oh yeah, he was going to kiss Stan. He ducks his head down and does so, so that Stan doesn't feel like he has to move, a kiss is enough.

**Stan Marsh**: Stan's eyes widened at Craig almost falling on him, and he was confused at what was going on. Was he - and then Craig kissed him on the lips. What the...what was going on with his boyfriend?

"...are you guys...done yet?"

**Token Black**: "Almost Stan," Token chimed behind Craig, taking extra precision in his aim to target what made Craig squirm the most. At the optimum angle, he could make the other either writhe in pain because he wasn't allowing himself to go, or writhe in pleasure, because Token knew what he was doing. With a little breathlessness, he felt himself about to fail in keeping his end of the challenge - something about Craig completely dominated and gasping from his touch made him turned on in a way he didn't want to discover for fear their brohood would be at risk. With a new determination, he moved his hands on the other's hips, thrusting inside roughly.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig is only barely hanging on at this point, and for the sake of his sanity he thinks he should probably just give in. He shudders as Token strikes inside him and just the right spot. God fucking damn, he really can't even think anymore. All he knows in this moment is the cock slamming in and out of him, and he's vaguely aware of Stan's body beneath his. Something keeps him strong, on bared threads of resistance, but he knows he'll be done soon. He continues to rock his hips back to meet Token's thrusts, but he can't really keep himself up anymore. He drops his head, resting his forehead in Stan's shoulder. He can't be bothered to hold back his groans anymore and he's panting hard, He curses Token in his head for reducing him to this, but the words won't form on his lips. It just comes out as a drawn out, sultry moan. Fuck Token, seriously.

**Token Black**: "_**Ughnnnnnn**_, Craig," Token growled slightly, his voice tensing when he heard the other moan. What the hell - Craig wasn't supposed to go _superukeboy_ on him and turn him on, this wasn't fair. With even quicker pumping of his hips, Token narrowed his eyes and then said, "Go, Craig," a little bit more viciously, almost as if it were a threat. ...What would he do if he came first? ...Token really didn't know, he never came first.

**Craig Tucker**: Craig tries to hold out a little longer, but it's useless and he knows it. With one last strangled cry, he comes on Stan's stomach. The pressure release is almost too much, and he has to force himself to stay on his hands and knees after his muscles turn to jelly. He's so fucking spent by now, and he's just going with the motions. His hips move on their own to coax Token to his completion. He breathes heavily against Stan's skin and he clutches at the blankets in his hands as Token continues to ride inside him. He's running purely on the energy of his post-orgasm, and he knows he and Stan will be asleep within minutes after Token leaves. …will Token have the energy to drive home?

**Stan Marsh**: Stan lazily moves to hold Craig, still collapsed and not intending on seeing Token to the door at all. If he wanted to leave, then fine. Sleep on the couch, fine. Just as long as they could go the fuck to sleep Stan was fine with Damien sleeping in their living room at this point.

**Token Black**: Realizing Craig had finally gotten off his high horse and just released, Token let out a sigh of relief as he came inside of Craig- luckily he was wearing a condom. Pulling out and tying the condom, he sat on the edge of the bed, regaining his breath and composure. He listened to the others breathing heavily, and he would have laughed if he had the energy - but all he could do was smile.

"Okay, guys, this is my queue to leave," He said as he stood up, and bent down to collect his clothes from the floor. Sliding on his boxers, then his socks and his pants, he slipped on his shirt and started buttoning it with some sort of post-sex energy renewal. "That was fun though."

He finished buttoning his top, grabbed his vest and pulled out his keys. "Have a good night, guys. Sleep well. Great ride Craig, you've got an excellent cushion on you."

He grinned slyly as he strode out the bedroom door, and shut it behind him. He could probably hear Craig through the door anyways, and he lingered a moment to see how his bro took his comment.

**Craig Tucker**: "Ugh, fuck you Token," Craig mutters mindlessly, tiredly. He just buries his head in Stan's chest and closes his eyes, having collapsed on top of him. Knowing that Stan will have something to say to that as well, he just says another, "Don't even bother, Stan, I'm going to punch him later." All he wants is to sleep, and probably not get out of bed tomorrow because he can already feel the dull ache of being thoroughly fucked setting in. Goddamn, good thing he doesn't have work.

**Stan Marsh**: "Dude, I'm sure I'll care tomorrow but right now I don't give a fuck about anything, I just want to sleep." Stan said apathetically, reaching up to tangle his fingers in Craig's hair and then let his head lull to the side. He closed his eyes, still massaging Craig's head absentmindedly before he fell asleep.


	50. End

Sexual Tension will be discontinued because of reasons.

If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to contact me on Tumblr: username "battycore"

We had a good ride, guys, and thank you so so so much for reading this far into the story. I'm deeply sorry that nothing was resolved and there was no proper ending, because as a reader myself, I know how painful that can be. If it would help, I can try to find the time to write a short wrap up, but it probably won't be something you want to read.

Ah, well, anyways, thank you again for reading this monster of a Roleplay, every review meant tons, and I was happy to actually meet some of you over on Tumblr.

Toodles~


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